Always Mine
by bbrown12
Summary: MC Fic. Clary was His and Jace was Hers. And that's all that would ever matter. Whether or not anyone else understood. That fact seemed simple for a long time until trouble got in the way. Violence never scared them until its what separated them. So how do you move on when you don't exist without the other? But 'There is no time, place, or person that will ever make you less mine.'
1. Before

**So this a MC fic. But as always, centers on Clace. Plan for this story: Long Chapters, but there will not be very many chapters. And they will hop around chronologically. Super excited to hear your thoughts! **

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**Before**

Jace walked into the vast city apartment. He hung up his designer scarf. With or without it, the cold staleness around him was impenetrable. Coincidentally, the apartment felt like a reflection of that. It was almost_ under_ decorated in Jace's opinion. A few things hung on the wall here or there, nothing of real importance. A shelf here. A table there. A plant in a corner. So much white. Too clean, too pristine. Not enough clutter. But Jessamine insisted it up to date with the latest interior design trends. AKA: Expensive. However, Jace made no objections because when it came down to it, he could give a fuck less on what the place looked like, how much it cost... To him it was just a place of dwelling.

He walked past the large hall mirror, intentionally tilting his head away. He had no desire to see his reflection. He didn't recognize it anymore. When he shaved, he did so blindly in the shower. In honesty, he was afraid if he looked at himself too long, he would shatter the mirror with his fist. And then Jessamine would freak out and ask questions. Questions he couldn't answer. Didn't want to answer.

His wife, Jessamine, was curled up in the corner of the large oddly shaped sectional. It was white. Her soft golden curls, were pulled back in an intricate twist atop the crown of her head like an antique doll. She scrolled through her phone with her long fancily painted nails. She was dressed to go out. Jace made no attempt to greet her as he rounded the bar, heading into the kitchen. To him she was as stale as the apartment. Practically just another piece of furniture too expensive to touch. A piece of furniture that sucked his cock from time to time... and let him pound it from behind. That was at least when she wasn't walking some runway in Paris or promoting her cosmetics line.

"Hi, Darling!" She chimed, not looking up. Jace didn't look at her either. He continued to guzzle back a bottle of Fiji water. It tasted like nothing. Perfect.

"Messenger guy came and dropped off some envelope for you, today." She continued. "He said, your step-dad told him to deliver it personally."

The mention of his step-dad immediately piqued his interest. His eyes darted around the island and counter tops for any such envelope.

"I was curious, obviously, so I opened it. But it's basically a bunch of lawyer papers."

Jace spotted at large brown folder and stack of papers on the glass coffee table in front of her. He sauntered over and swooped them up. His eyes ran over them as she droned on.

"Apparently, son guy named Steven died? Idk, I didn't finish because Michelle texted me. We're going to go grab some cocktails and have a photo op."

Jace's eyes glazed over. There was a gripping tightness in his chest. He continued to read over the documents but none of it sank in. "Stephan." He corrected her, trying to restrain the hoarseness in throat.

"What's that darling? Do you want to come with us, or do you need persuading?" There was a smile in her voice, and she reached forward with a manicure hand, creeping for the bulge of his pants.

Jace smoothly side-stepped away and took a seat, farther from her. He cleared his throat. "I said, Stephan Herondale. My dad. He died." His voice sounded distant and vacant to even his ears.

Jessamine sat up straighter. "Your father?" She uttered. Her tone laced more with disgust rather than pity. "Didn't you say he was in some low life Motorcycle gang?"

Jace had never used the term 'low-life.' That was Jessamine's own cynical added flare. Jace nodded once regardless. His eyes stared far off into the empty space of his mind where he saw a rough older man. His once golden hair, that matched Jace's, was ashen-ed to a gray from the passage of time. Though his arms were bare, they were fully covered. Two sleeves of ink. A collage of Military, MC, and prison tattoos. Despite his age, his arms were lean with muscle. Along with his ink covered torso that laid behind the white wife-beater and leather cut.

"Oh, sweetie..." She said, faking her sympathy. It stayed quiet for several minutes while Jessamine looked around uncomfortably. "So, is that a no? You're not going to come out, tonight?" She finally questioned.

His jaw that rested on his knuckled fist, slowly tilted so that he finally looked her in the face. Whatever she must have seen there in his eyes made her draw back slightly. "I mean... Do you want me to stay with you, Darling?" She offered unconvincingly.

"No." Jace answered curtly. "Please go." He tried to smother the bite in his words but probably failed. "I've got a call to make, anyway." He got up in one fluid motion and went to the office and shut the door.

"Okay, I'll see you later, Honey!" Jessamine's muffled voice called from the other side of the door.

Jace took a seat at his large glass desk. Placing the envelope contents aside, he shifted through several other papers. When he was certain the woman had left, he picked up his desk phone and hit the first speed dial for his step-dad, but first and foremost his boss, Michael. As it rang, Jace furiously hooked a finger around the tie at his throat, shaking it loose.

"I take it you got the lawyer's letter." Michael answered without even a hello.

"This is how I find out, you son of a bitch?" Jace immediately snapped back.

"Oh, come now, Jace. It's been years. Don't tell me you still care about those pathetic people."

Michael's tone was droll and calm. But Jace had a death grip on the plastic of the phone, prepared to smash it. "He's my fucking dad, Michael..." He gritted out from behind clenched teeth. "I'm going to that funeral."

Michael was quiet for a moment before he finally relented. "Fine. Take next week to pass on your condolences and meet with the lawyer. Then, I want you back here in the city."

"Fine." Jace hissed. Before he could hang up, Michael spoke again. "Oh, and Jace... Do tell the little red-head I say 'hello.' That is if she's not some pimp's crack whore by now."

Jace brought the phone down so hard on the receiver that it cracked. And because he wasn't satisfied to see it not in shattered pieces, he ripped it from its cord and hurled it against the wall. He dropped back into his chair, still heaving with anger.

_The red-head. _Clary.

_Clary and I were kids of the MC. A Rebel Stallions Chapter down in Arkansas. My pops had been a member for a long time before he became President of his own chapter. His dad before him was one of the original club founders in Texas. But instead of falling right into his footsteps, Stephan joined the Marines after Highschool. Saw some bad shit. Then came back to his roots where he joined the club. Did some bad shit. Then, spent the next several years in prison. When he got out, he and his best friend, Valentine Morgenstern, made their way to Arkansas where they started their own Chapter. Stephan then proceeded to marry the first pretty girl he saw and put a baby in her. That's how he got me._

_Now, the Rebel Stallions had plenty of lucrative business: The mechanic shop, The strip club, The clubhouse bar... However, it didn't stop them from running guns along with the Texas Chapters. And violence with rival gangs had a habit of stirring trouble, as well. All of this, my mother decided she wanted no part of. So, when I was just two, she was all ready to dip. Only problem, no way in hell Pops was letting her take me. So, she left without me. Good riddance._

_Valentine, on the other hand. He knocked up a waitress one-night in the back of the diner. It was an accident. A moment of unprotected, drunk passion. But the little green-eyed girl that was a product of it turned out to be the most sacred thing in his life. That was Clary._

_To put it in the kindest terms, Clary's mom, Jocelyn, she was loose... And liked to snort a white line every now and then. She also always seemed to have a new boyfriend hanging around. And had no problem leaving her toddler with them while she ran errands or had to work another shift. But when Valentine found out about it... He always said it was a miracle he didn't beat the bitch. So, Clary spent a lot of time on club property along with me. Valentine rather her be there than with a stranger. And when there was club business, Clary would spend the night at my house while one of the brother's OL' Lady babysat us._

_She was my best friend. It didn't matter that she was a couple years younger. We would stretch out on a pile of blankets in the living room and watch movies until we fell asleep. Around the mechanic shop we would play hide and seek and some of the club members would teach us all about the workings of a Harley Davidson. On the playground at school Clary preferred to play tag with me and the boys instead of house with the girls._

_I think with growing up around a bunch of dangerous and rowdy men as her role models, Clary being a bit of a tomboy was inevitable. She had these vibrant red curls that were usually pulled back into two piggy tails. Most of the time, she wore jean shorts and stained t-shirts that were too big for her. On her feet were either dirty converse or cheap flip-flops and painted toe nails. She may have been rough and tough but she wasn't plain. She liked to stack on colorful, mis-matched bracelets and chokers. And she chewed a lot of bubble gum that filled up her small, freckle-dusted cheeks._

_On the summer I was twelve, the annual town fair had started for the weekend. There were the typical prize booths, as well as large carnival ride contraptions. Pops had given me some cash and I was ready to blow it on food and games with my friends. Per usual, Clary wanted to tag along. _

_We stood out in the gravel lot, lined with motorcycles. I balanced myself on the seat of my mountain bike and stared enviously at the rows. I couldn't wait to have a real engine rumbling beneath me one day._

"_You hear me, Boy?" Val questioned, smacking me on the back of the head. "Both of you be home by ten. Jace, you keep an eye on Baby Girl here. Make sure she doesn't get into trouble." He ordered. Then gave Clary a kiss on the head. 'Baby Girl' was Valentine's nickname for her. It caught on well throughout the club. I typically only used it to tease her._

"_Yeah." I sniffed in reply. Clary jumped up onto the pegs of the back wheel and held a tight grip on my shoulders. I peddled fast to the fairgrounds but always made sure to keep the ride smooth so she wouldn't slip off._

_When we walked through the entrance into the crowded cornucopia of people, metal, and colorful lights, I spotted my group of friends waiting by a food truck of corndogs._

"_Alright, here is ten bucks. Now, you gotta scram." I told her, slapping a couple bills into her palm. "Don't talk to anyone you don't know." _

_Clary gave me an eyeroll before running off but, I saw her wave to someone before she was out of sight and then I went to join the other kids._

_We had just gotten off the spinning cyclone and were paying some older teenagers to get us beer with their stolen wristbands when Clary's skipped up to me again. "Jace I need some money to get me and Maia some ice cream." She put out her hand expectantly and looked up at me with those big eyes. I looked past her see a girl Clary's age with light-brown skin and dark braided cornrows._

_I groaned in annoyance. Mostly for show, since some of the guys were looking at her that way. "I already gave you cash."_

_Clary's innocent face dropped to a scowl. "I spent it on ride tickets. Just give me two bucks, you Asshat." She pouted and grabbed a threatening fistful of my t-shirt. _

_I shook her off quickly and gave her another five. "Fine, here." I piped and walked off grumbling as the losers around me snickered and I flipped them the bird. I was pissed at her for embarrassing me. She had always been somewhat of a shadow but those days it had started to bother me._

_An hour later, it had gotten dark and my posse was buzzed on beer and looking for a good place to set off some fire crackers. When we rounded the corner, I immediately spotted the tiny red-head sitting alone on top of a picnic table. She chewed openly on her gum and stared unamused at the spinning neon circle of the glow stick in her hand. My annoyance with her from earlier evaporated. I made my way over to her and pinched her knee._

"_You alright, Baby Girl?" I prodded._

_She blew out a breath and looked around bored. "Maia had to go home." She pouted. "Will you hang out with me, now?" She peered up high in front of her. And I swear I could see that spark behind her eyes. Clary glanced back to me. "Wanna ride the Ferris Wheel, with me?" _

_Just then my friend... friend that I couldn't stand, Sebastian, bounded up from behind and clapped me on the shoulder._

"_Clary, don't you do anything but pester Jace? Why don't you go home and play with some barbie dolls?" Sebastian goaded obnoxiously._

"_Oh, piss off, Verlac!" Clary sneered, hopping up. Her sharp tongue was almost comical sometimes given out little her voice sounded. She grabbed another fistful of my t-shirt but that time I let her drag me along. We jumped in front of the line at the entrance gate, much to groaning objections of the other waiting people. On the way up Clary chatted about everything that she and Maia had ridden and I told her how Sebastian made me want to punch him every time he opened his mouth._

_When we reached the top, I craned my head looking up to the twinkling stars and then rocked forward, looking down the patchy grass and dirt of the ground below._

"_We're up here pretty high. Are you scared?" I asked with a smirk. I looked over at her to see she had taken out her gum and was sticking it underneath our metal seat. In the next second, when her eyes met mine, she grasped my face in both of her small hands and closed the space between us. Her wet lips pressed hard against mine for several lingering seconds before she pulled away._

_I didn't know what to do but stare at her with wide eyes. Clary was smiling to herself and looking out at the stars instead of me._

"_Nope." She stated. And I realized she was referring to the fact that she wasn't scared. Despite myself, I blushed._

_I had thought about kissing Clary before. One night, while we were in the clubhouse bar, fencing with two pool cues. Yet, from across the room, Valentine called me over to their card table. He dumped the scantily dressed chick off his lap and stood tall, looming over me. With one hand he slicked back his white hair and the other hand gripped my shoulder with bruising pressure. _

"_You got that look in your eye, Boy, and I don't like it." He denounced. "You best not forget that's _my _little girl. And I'm not scared to punch a little shit, kid. So, don't get any funny ideas." He threatened and then gave me a rough shove back to toward the pool tables. The bikers at the card table all laughed, including my dad. With that, I had decided to rethink my intentions..._

_In fact, I had just so recently decided I would try to plant one on Izzy Lightwood. Maybe try to grab some tit while I was at it. But Clary, apparently, had made her own decisions._

_We didn't speak the rest of the way down the Ferris Wheel. I did lick my lips and they tasted like the sugary sweetness of bubble gum._

"_You make-out with your little girlfriend, Herondale?" Sebastian taunted when we got off the ride. "Oh, piss off, Verlac." I replied, purposely echoing Clary's words. I slapped high-fives and gave handshakes to the rest of my friends. Then, I gave Clary's shoulder a nudge and we raced off to where I had parked my bike._

_That kiss didn't come up again that summer. But I did end up making out with Izzy. Even groped her boob. But it wasn't until a couple years later, when I was a freshman in high school, that I got my first taste for pussy. It was with some junior girl at a party. Many girls followed. I even got to feel up some of the chicks at the Rebel Stallion's strip joint. The ladies always told me how tall and handsome I had gotten and that I should give a call once I was legal._

_I liked to brag about my conquests to Clary, who was still grossed out by the idea of sex. Apparently, none of the sounds that came from her mom's bedroom sounded appealing. She claimed she wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole. And yet, when Clary turned fourteen, it was her pussy I finally got a taste of._

_I had finally gotten a real motorcycle of my own and it was my fucking greatest love. Clary was practically a permanent fixture on the back of it. She loved it almost as much as I did. I drove her to and from school and around town._

_She didn't date much. Being a biker princess was intimidating for most guys. And those who were brave enough knew they had to go through me first. Dumbasses really. I only reinforced her 'off limits' sign by being a threatening asshole. Things got particularly messy with one guy. Yet, Clary never objected. She just gave me a knowing smirk. She didn't have many girl-friends, either. Also, too intimidating. And those that did want to be her friend apparently only wanted to get to me. According to Clary, I could 'fuck a bitch' on my own. Her smart mouth didn't help. She had a habit of sounding one-step ahead of everyone that had something nasty to say. So, she spent her free time with me and my crew of friends. To them, her 'off limits' sign was always an unspoken understanding. Well, everyone but Sebastian clearly understood that._

_We pulled into the clubhouse lot late one night, after a movie. We could hear a party raging inside so we lingered there in the quiet. Any topic of conversation was casual between us. That's just the way we always spoke to each other. With utter comfort. But Clary didn't ramble. __If she told me something it had purpose. But when__ she confided that she had been touching herself at night and figuring out how to make herself cum, the pipe length in my jeans went absolutely rigid. And I just couldn't help myself._

_I pressed her against me and whispered in her ear that I would be happy to help show her just how good it could feel. She looked at me hesitantly before nodding. So, we snuck into one of the empty clubhouse bedrooms and she stripped down. Then, I showed her just what a mouth could do. And when she told me she wanted to keep going, I showed her just what a dick could do, too._

_But being with Clary, was different than the rest of the girls I had slept with. I wanted to drown in her. It just felt right, like it was the way things were supposed to be. Now, I was a cocky little shit, so it didn't take long before word got around and her daddy found out. At school, I was a dangerous son of a bitch. But at the club, Valentine beat the living shit out of me. And then, when my pretty face finally healed up a couple weeks later, I fucked her again._

_The next time Val watched us pull up on my Harley, I kissed her hard on the mouth just so he could see. And I cupped her tight ass, pressing her groin into mine._

"_You didn't learn your lesson, Boy?! I told you to stay the fuck away from my Baby Girl!" Valentine raged._

_I tightened my grip on her. "She ain't your Baby Girl no more, Val. This one's mine now." I announced, smiling down at her and she gave me a coy grin back._

_That night Valentine had some members hold me down and then paddled my ass with a bat so hard I couldn't ride my motorcycle or even sit down for a week._

_My pops hadn't done or said much of it besides, 'That's what you get for sticking your dick where it doesn't belong.' I quickly corrected him that Clary had indeed always belonged to me. I don't know if he ever said anything to his Vice President but Valentine eventually came to some form of acceptance. Unless he saw any PDA. Then he wasn't afraid to come rough me up._

_Not too long later, I told Clary I loved her. She replied with a loving 'I know you do, idiot." And I did. I would keep that girl till the end of my days..._

_But I was still dumb and horny for a long while. I would still go to the strip joint and let the girls grind their bare pussies on my lap. And one night after a football game, which technically I wasn't allowed to be at according to my suspension, a cheerleader from the other team made a pass and offered to give me head. I couldn't just say no. _

_Clary had recently started working day shifts at the club bar and wasn't around to chill with us. So, in the dark shadows, under the bleachers, the busty blonde sucked me off. Sebastian and my friend, Will waited down a way on the other side of the chain link fence by our bikes. The game had ended and most people had cleared out besides a few loiters. _

_The cheerleader's mouth was shiny with lip gloss but her mouth could have been wetter. In the distance, I heard the rumble of another engine._

_I could feel myself about to cum when I heard her familiar voice. "You Shits think I don't know a lie when I hear it?" Her angry voice carried. "Where the fuck is, he?!"_

_I cursed, shaking the girl off of me so I could zip up my pants. She just stayed there. On her knees, eyes wide and confused. And then Clary rounded the corner, eyes blazing and a switch blade in hand._

_At fifteen, her style had not changed much from when she was a kid. Just evolved. The shorts got shorter. Her black t-shirt was an old one of mine, cut down the sides, revealing the black lace of her bra around her ribs. She had dark, worn-in boots on her feet. She still liked to accessorize but, jewelry that was once colorful plastics became blacks and metals. Her wild red curls were flipped to one side, a tight French braid curved around an ear decorated in silver piercings. And she wore more eyeliner and lipstick._

"_You. Little. Cunt." She seethed. She stormed up grabbing a clump of the cheerleaders dyed hair and dragged her away on her knees before giving her back a shove with her boot._

"_Come on, Baby Girl, don't hurt her. You're gonna get in trouble. It's not her fault." I said trying to deescalate the situation. But then, Clary turned on me._

"_I know. I was fucking talking to _you!" _She shouted. She flipped the blade down, back into her fist, but that fist came straight swinging for my face. I grabbed her wrist easily, expecting it. And as if she was expecting_ that, _her other hand came cracking against my face in a hard slap. Pissed and face stinging, I grabbed tight onto both of her arms, as she fought me and screeched in my face. "If you ever touch another bitch again, I will nail your balls to the back of the bar and frame it so everyone knows just who you fucking belong to!" Her legs kicked out trying to find purchase on my knees or groin, I wasn't sure._

_But when I saw a tall, awkwardly shaped, bald man in an ugly, brown suit approaching us, I twisted her around pinning her arm tight against her back. My other hand tore the switch blade from hers and stuffed it in my pocket._

"_What the hell is going on here?" Principal Richard Johnson demanded. We affectionately referred to him as Dick for obvious reasons._

_I plastered on a devilish smile. "Nothing, Dick. Just having a chat with my OL' Lady here." Clary was grinding her jaw, her breasts still heaving with anger._

_Principal Dick scoffed. "You need to stop talking like that. You're just kids and if you knew what's good for you, you would get out of that life, so you don't become a pathetic criminal like your dear-old dad."_

_I had to repress a growl._

"_Now, let Morgenstern go, before I call the cops." He ordered._

_I dropped a wet kiss to the arch of her throat before releasing her. I backed up a couple steps, my hands in surrender._

_With a frustrated sigh, Clary whipped around and grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers._

"_He's fine, Dick." she grumbled shoving past the principal with me in tow. I gave the bastard a smirk._

_Once we were around the fence and out in the open, she dropped her grip and stormed around to her motorcycle. She had finally worn-down Valentine into getting her one. But it wasn't a Harley Davidson like the rest of us. She got a sleek, black pocket bike. The men made fun of her for having a little crotch rocket but, I thought it suited her._

"_You're one crazy bitch, Clary." Will cooed. Clary simply gave him the middle finger in response but I told him if he talked to her like that again I'd punch him in the damn throat._

_Clary straddled her bike and fitted a black helmet over her head. "You know I'm sorry, Baby Girl." I voiced over to her. I rested against my own bike and took out a pack of cigarettes._

"_That mouth is going to have to do a lot more than apologize to make up for it." She said and then slapped her visor down and tore out of the parking lot. I grinned wickedly after her._

_Sebastian made a choking noise. "Looks like somebody's pussy whipped. Clary must have some treasure under those Daisy Dukes." He taunted._

"_If by 'pussy whipped' you mean I'm whipping that tight pussy nightly then you would be correct. You know, Seb, I'd say how fucking cute it is how jealous you are but it's not. So, I suggest you stop being a little bitch and get my girl's name out your mouth before it gets wired shut." I threatened coldly. I had squared right up to him standing about an inch taller. I exhaled the smoke of my cigarette right in his face and then dropped the simmering bud on his boot. I went back to my bike and told the fuckers I'd see them later, before riding off._

_That night at Clary's house, I did make it up to her. Several times. We laid naked in the afterglow. The smell of sex still hung in the air. Her bare breast pressed against me and her delicate fingers played with the soft hairs on my chest._

"_Did you mean it? When you called me your OL' Lady, earlier?" She murmured._

"_Seems like the best description for you." I replied, trailing my fingers along the bare skin of her spine. She looked troubled still._

"_You're going to be an official Prospect next year, Jace. And I'm happy for you. But everyone knows that the MC Bikers are loyal to each other, not always their women." She said meeting my eyes firmly. Guilt trickled through me._

"_You are some good-looking danger, Jace. Prime choice for those crow eaters... But, you and me? We take care of each other. We always have. I need to know that this forever." She claimed, sitting up to straddle my waist._

_I sat up too, wrapping my arms around her to breathe her in. Our foreheads rested together. "There is no time, place, or person that will ever make you less mine." I uttered, drawing in her lips with my teeth. "There's no one else that I want." I told her truthfully. Her reaction under the bleachers made me realize that. The sweet red-head smiled against me and whispered. "Good, now I want my knife back."_

_I groaned, feeling weary, but I pulled away reaching into my discarded jeans. "You know, you can have full ownership of my balls. I just prefer they stay attached to my body." I joked before handing her back the switch blade. She opened it and without hesitation cut a slice into her palm. Liking the idea, I did the same when she passed me the knife. And then we clasped our hands together, mixing the blood. "You and me forever, Baby Girl." I rasped. She kissed me hard, her tongue exploring my mouth. She moaned how much she loved me. And just like that I was ready to be inside her again._

_Over the next couple years, Clary and I both did little to stay out of trouble. I got in more fights than I could count. Several ended up with me spending the night in a jail cell. Clary, however, she spent a lot of time in detention for tagging her artwork around the school and town as matter of fact. She got picked up by the police once. Her father had sent me to get her, simultaneously claiming I would be punished for his Baby Girl being caught in the first place. Her mugshot had been one of the sexiest things I had ever seen... And I had seen a lot even by that age. Her hair was tussled and she had the slightest hint of a smirk. I claimed that I wanted it tattooed on my back. Looking back, I wish I would have actually had it done. Because at that point, I had yet to once again even bat an eye at another woman. _

_I did a year as a Prospect, before I was voted in as an official member. I wore my colors proudly every day after, prepared to die in them one day. The club threw a big party in my honor. Clary was even allowed to come. It turned out to be more of a punishment though, because Val made her stay behind the bar and forbade me from touching her. He kept throwing crow eaters, the club groupies, at me until Clary nearly bit his head off and threatened to stop serving him._

_Clary and I either slept at her mom's house or mine. But always together. She no longer stayed at Valentine's house because I obviously wasn't allowed there._

_There came a day, when I pulled my bike up to her mom's place. I hadn't seen her as much because of club business, which was odd for us. She walked out frowning and climbed onto the Pillion Pad behind me._

"_What's eaten ya, babe?" I questioned, not a fan of that look in her eye. She didn't answer right away, just looked nervously back at her house._

"_I don't like this one." She said quietly. "He doesn't look at me right."_

_I peered back at the house with her, frustration boiling through me. So, Jocelyn had a new boyfriend. Obviously, not a good one._

_I arched around giving Clary a smooch. "I'll take care of you, Baby Girl." I promised. I couldn't wait for Clary to turn eighteen the next year so I could officially make her mine... But I never got the chance._

_I had been selected to assist in a gun run. It went off fine but I got home later than I planned. Clary sometimes stayed at my house while I was away. But I told her I would pick her up at her place that night. When I pulled up, my stomach dropped. She was screaming._

"_I said get fuck off of me!" Her voice so high and loud that it cracked._

_I raced in busting through the door so fast, the knob smashed into the dry wall behind it. Jocelyn's boyfriend was on top of Clary on the floor, his fist coming down on her face. In an instant I hurled my whole self at him, knocking him to the bare floor behind them. My strength outmatched his and then, I brought my fist down. Repeatedly. Until I was satisfied with the splashing blood and the crunching bone. Whether it was his face or my knuckles I didn't know._

_I scrambled to my feet, and pulled the Glock from my back waistband. The bastard had enough energy to slump up against the wall but that was it. I kept my barrel trained on him in case he tried to move any further._

_I chanced a glance at my girl. Her jean shorts were unzipped and then ripped even further. Her fingertips were bloodied and her hands hovered over her face as she sobbed. I could see her face was bloodied and swollen, as well. Bruises were already showing on her neck and arms. _

_I looked back to the fucker who did it to her. Adrenaline and anger brewed through me like deadly smoke and lava, clouding my vision. He had nail scratches down his face and arms. Pride swelled in me. At least she wouldn't go down without a fight._

"_I need you to call your dad." I told her sternly and detached as I threw my cell to her. Her hands trembled as she picked up the device. "You're going to be okay, Baby Girl. We're going to handle this son of a bitch." I tried to comfort her but the longer I looked at the savagely beat man the more rage over took me. I was breathing fast and heavy but my hand was sturdy and poised on the trigger. The fucker touched what was mine. He _hurt _what was mine._

"_You fucked with the wrong man's girl." I spat._

_His breathing was shallow but at my words he mustered his eyes up to meet mine. And then, the piece of shit smiled. And in return I squeezed the trigger._

_Twice._

_One in his heart and another in his head for good measure._

_I once thought seeing the life leave a man's eyes and drift into a cold dead stare at my hand would leave me wrapped in guilt and regret. But, that's not what I felt. I felt relieved. Like a problem was dealt with. Like Clary was now safe._

_But her shrill scream brought me out of my deadly, hypnotic gaze. "Jace! What the fuck did you do?!" I looked around the small living room. I could hear concerned neighbors outside. The panicked slowly started to seep in. I should have waited..._

_Clary's hands covered mine, hurriedly taking the gun from my grip. "You need to get out of here, before the cops show up!" She cried. _

_I stared at her confused until my adrenaline kicked back into gear. I jerked the gun back from her and put in my waistband. What was she thinking?_

_I hightailed it out of there, jumping on my bike and revving it to life. I flew low down the streets, my only thought on making it to a safe hideout. But it was useless. The blue and red lights flashed behind me, the sirens blaring. I wasn't going to make it away. So, I pulled over and slowly dismounted my bike, my hands raised on the back of my head. The officers approached and roughly forced me to the ground, guns to my head. The gravel dug into my cheekbones. And then, they hauled me off._

_I was eventually sat down with two detectives as they tried to get a signed confession out me. I was cuffed to the metal table between us, the club lawyer sat beside me and a police officer stood stoic and on guard at the door._

"_Not looking too good for you, young man. Mr. Hodge Starkweather was an upstanding citizen. No prior convictions of what your statement called 'harassment, assault, and attempted rape.'" Said the dark hair detective. _

_I stared at them blankly. My lawyer advised it best to keep quiet as to not accidentally criminalize myself._

_The dark-detective shared a look with the graying detective next to him. "But maybe we're looking at this wrong..." He drew out with sigh, and then reclined in his stiff metal chair._

"_We have a statement from the girl's mother saying Clary had the tendency to be jealous of her relationships." He explained. Against my will, my lip curled. Jocelyn was a fucking cunt._

_He continued. "Maybe you found them together, bloodied the both of them and then shot him. And then, when you realized you had caught the attention of the neighborhood, you left before you were able to finish her off, too."_

_I lurched forward, my resolve breaking. "I would never fucking touch her!" I hollered, spit spraying from my mouth._

"_No? But you would kill for her?!"_

_My lawyer clamped a hand on my shoulder, keeping me in my seat. He murmured in my ear to keep quiet. "If you plan to do nothing but harass my client, then I think we are done here." He asserted._

_The officer came and unchained my cuffs from the table and grabbed a firm hold of my arm, pulling me up. But I paused when the detectives kept speaking._

"_Then again, we do have the girl's prints on the murder weapon, as well. What's to say you're not covering up for her? Maybe, there's another arrest we need to make."_

_I struggled against the officer's grip, ready to throttle the smug ass detective. "Leave her out of this." I choked out and the officer dragged me out of the room before they could say anything else._

_A couple weeks later, I sat down with Pops and the lawyer. Stephan looked as grave as I felt. His gaze was stony but didn't leave the table. I told them to lay it on me._

"_You could be looking at a minimum twenty-five-year sentence." The lawyer explained. He droned on further but, I could barely hear him. The weight of the situation was pressing down on me, suffocating me. "However, your Step-dad's lawyer has contacted me." He continued._

_I snapped to attention. "Step dad?" I echoed in disbelief._

_The dark-skinned lawyer licked his lips, casting a glance at Pops. He laced his fingers together ready to explain. "Yes... A Michael Wayland. He married your mother some odd years ago. The man is a wealthy lobbyist in New York. He apparently believes he could have some influence over your case due to his affiliations with the Judge. Perhaps, have it reduced to probation."_

_For the first time, hope swelled in me. I was going to get out of there. Put it behind me. But, the tension of uncertainty hung between the two men across from me. "Well, that all sounds great... but what's the catch?" I asked carefully._

_Our lawyer sighed. "You would have to move to New York and work as his employee till further notice. Ending all forms of contact with the MC and its affiliates."_

_I sat back stunned. My eyes narrowed. "Why don't you go ahead and tell this lobbyist to fucking screw? I don't need his money or influence. I'd rather do the time." I sneered._

_But the lawyer didn't answer, his eyes bored down at his paperwork. It was Stephan who spoke. "Can I have a moment alone with my son, please?" He articulated._

_The lawyer gathered his things without another word, as if he had expected this. I was left wondering what kind a plan was being waged that I had been left out of?_

_When the screeching metal door slammed shut, my father looked up at me, meeting my eyes for the first time. "You're going to take that deal, Jace." He said calmly._

_I, however, didn't feel so calm. "Are you fucking kidding me, Pops? Like hell I am! I'm not fucking yellow. I'll do the time. Whatever it is. I can't just disgrace myself and the club like that."_

_Stephan exhaled hard through his nose as if the conversation was killing him as much as it was me. "It's not your decision. The club voted. We're confiscating your bike and colors. You're out." He said in one breath._

_Every muscle in my being went slack. I couldn't wrap my mind around what he said. My future, my brothers, my girl... were all being ripped away from me._

"_Don't do this to me, Dad... Please..." I rasped. Stephan, one of the toughest men I ever knew, his eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. "I lost my cool. I know that. I should have waited for the brothers to get there or at least the police. It was selfish." Yet, even as I spoke, I saw Hodge's pathetic smile creep across his face and it made my fingers twitch all over again._

"_Yeah, it was fucking selfish." Pops barked. "And your ass is still being selfish. What about Clary? You think she wants to see you behind bars because of her?"_

"_I'd die for her!" I cried. "At least, in prison she could come to see me! You're asking me to completely walk away, from her, from my family!"_

_Stephan slowly shook his head. "You're just a kid, Jace... The last thing I want to see is you spend your youth rotting in a cell." His eyes slowly met mine once more. "This is a done deal, Son. It's what's best. For you. For the club. For Clary... I'm sorry." _

_My eyes dropped to my lap, seeing nothing. Feeling nothing but a strangling chokehold of despair._

_The day I was released from prison, I was escorted to my house by Michael Wayland's own hired security crew. I was instructed to pack all my belongings, which would be loaded into a truck for me. I was then driven to the MC clubhouse where I would say my goodbyes before boarding a plane to New York._

_My father held me in a tight hug. A hug that said everything he couldn't. 'I'm so sorry it had to be this way, but good luck.' I hadn't faced or spoken to any of the other members since being arrested. The same men that all voted me out gathered around the bike lot. Their solemn faces and head nods showed me that it wasn't a choice of malice. They were still brother's protecting their own and doing what was best for me. Stripping my colors was their only play. No other way in hell, I would have made the agreement._

_I looked up meeting the dark eyes of Valentine. The man who had beat and hated me for about the last ten years. I didn't know what I expected but I sure as hell wasn't expecting him to crush me to him in a smothered embrace. The man's large hand palmed the back of my head with affection. "You protected my Baby Girl. I'm never gonna forget that, Son. You take care now, you here?" He muttered in a voice that sounded like he was struggling to keep his own emotions at bay. He patted my back and arms, releasing me._

_I said individual farewells to the rest of the men. My brothers. But it didn't matter. She wasn't there. Clary wasn't there. I hadn't seen her since that day at her mom's house when everything fell apart. But I didn't blame her. I hadn't just ruined my future. I ruined ours... And I didn't look very good in orange._

_I looked back to Valentine with question in my eyes but he just shook his head sadly and shrugged._

_I was prepared to get into the security's car when Clary's sport bike came ripping into the lot. She was off of it before even cutting the engine and the bike spun out and scraped across the gravel. She whipped off her helmet and chucked it away from her before hurling into my arms. I held her crushingly tight to me, and her legs wrapped around my waist._

"_I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I was mad and just too scared to say goodbye." She whimpered into my neck. I shushed her sweetly. I hadn't cried since I was four-years old but right then I realized I had two wet streaks cutting down my face. The bikers took that as their cue to give us some privacy and they went inside._

"_I'm the one that's sorry. Shit, Clary. I'm so fucking sorry!" I heaved. I put her back on her feet so I could hold her angel face in my hands. Her eyes were red and puffy and washed with tears. She wound two hands around my wrists, pressing my hands tighter to her._

"_I didn't mean for this to happen... I was going to marry you next year." I told her confidently. Her eyes sparked in pain._

"_You were gonna be my OL' Lady. I would have gotten you a property patch and everything." I tried to laugh but it came out strangled._

"_Promise you won't forget me." She whispered in anguish._

_I shook my head. "I promise that whether I die in a year or a hundred, it will be with your name on my lips, Baby girl." I said harshly. "But I'm going to find a way out of this. This isn't over, remember?" I clasped my hand in hers the same way we had done when making our blood oath._

_Before another round of sobs could come on, Clary through her arms around my neck and pulled my mouth to hers. Her lips tasted like saltwater and her tongue like sugar. I wanted to devour her. More than anything I wanted take her upstairs and make love to her one last time._

_All too soon, one of the security men nearby cleared his throat. I groaned and reluctantly pulled away from the petite red-head. I ran a thumb over her swollen lips, committing the image of them to memory._

"_I love you. Always." She sighed._

_I swallowed the large lump in my throat that was growing by the minute. I did my best to fashion a smirk. "I know." I murmured. And with the strength it would take me to rip my own self in half, I let her go. Got in the car. And left 'The MC and it's affiliates' behind me._

_Michael Wayland was an evil son of a bitch. It didn't take too long to see that this arrangement was much less about me and my mom, as he had stated, and much more about using a 'nobody' as a business scapegoat. So, I couldn't rebel as I tended to do because I knew my only other option was prison. But, if there was going to be one good thing out of starting a new life, it would be the chance to reconnect with my mother._

_Once upon a time, I envisioned what she would be like. A sweet, compassionate woman. With a heart of gold and mind of steel. But no. She was vapid and judgmental. Cared about nothing but buying fancy things and kissing her precious husband's ass... And I would end up marrying a woman just like her._

_Michael said I needed a college degree, if I planned to make any real money or a name for myself. So, I got one. See, I wasn't stupid. In high school, I simply didn't care for the tests, turning in homework, listening to authority. But I soaked it all in like a sponge. I finished my bachelor degree online in only two years while working. Before I knew it, five years had gone by since I left Arkansas and I had a new six –figure salary, a penthouse apartment, and a supermodel wife. A man's dream. And I hated every minute of it._

_And then it happened. I had a business meeting with some clients in St. Louis. It wasn't until I arrived that morning and checked-in that I received last minute word the meeting had been cancelled and rescheduled for the next evening. For only two, calculating minutes I stared out at the city view, looking at the giant Arch that stood out among the other rectangular buildings. And then I was on the move. I had just over twenty-four hours to make it back for the meeting and my home town was about ten hours away. I had to make every minute count. I changed into jeans and a t-shirt, sliding into my leather jacket. I abandoned the rest of my belongings behind in the room, as well as my phone, knowing full well Michael could track it. I told the front that if anyone called for me, to tell them I was in my room and asked not to be disturbed. Then, I needed to rent a car. I knew it couldn't be under my credit. Michael would easily find his way into any suspicious transaction history. I had hoped to have this opportunity one day and had been quietly preparing. I used the credit card of one of Jessamine's bimbo friends, that I had swiped from her purse one of many terrible club outings. I typically tried to black-out as soon as possible on those nights._

_I sped down highway after highway as subtly as I could. It was a risk. I didn't want to get pulled over. But, all of it was a risk. Speeding, renting a car, leaving in the first place, even thinking about Arkansas and the family I hoped still resided there was a risk. But I had to go. Everyday my world felt like it was gripping its clutches tighter on my throat. Strangling, every memory every desire of my real self out of me. I needed to see them. See her._

_After hours of intensity behind the wheel, I came upon the familiar landscape of my town, my home. It was night and I crept through the town in a slow crawl, noting how much had changed and how much had not. It was an interesting change of view. I had never driven through the town behind the wheel of a car._

_Finally, I pulled up to the club's auto shop next to a line of motorcycles and cut the engine. My hands twitched just at the sight of the metal machines. I sat there in the quiet of my car and finally let the doubt creep into me. What if coming there was a mistake? What if she hated me? What if they all hated me? Or worse, what if she was gone all together?_

_I started at the sound of the building door flying open. Three men stood there. One carrying a large shotgun, the others hand a at their waistbands, ready to draw. I stepped out of my car hesitantly, not sure if they could get a clear look at me in the dark._

"_We're closed!" The man with the shotgun hollered. "Best speak your business, boy, unless you want a hole in your chest." His deep threatening voice somehow gave me comfort._

"_Oh, come on, Val, I thought we buried that hatchet!" I shouted back, slowly approaching. The gray-haired man next to Valentine, grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and pointed it to the ground._

"_Well, drag me to fuckin' hell! Is that you, Son?!" He bellowed, stepping up to embrace me. This hug felt different then the last one we had shared. This was a 'Welcome home.' Stephan laughed louder than I had ever heard him. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again, kid! Look at you. You're a fuckin' grown man." His voice cracked with emotion. He palmed the back of my neck and pulled me back to get a good look at me._

_When he finally released me, Valentine pulled me right in next and then I turned to the third man and recognized Sebastian. "Look who ended up patching in... a mediocre replacement. But I suppose that's better than nothing." I goaded, clapping his hand._

_Sebastian laughed. "Think yours was the only slack that needed picked up?" _

_I didn't like the way he said it. I looked at my dad with concern and he nodded solemnly. "Few of our men got caught with illegal fire arms on an exchange. Things got ugly."_

"_The ones that lived could end up doing life in prison. Not everyone gets away scot free like you did." Sebastian sneered. Before I could retaliate, Valentine knocked him upside the head._

"_Show some respect, boy! I have yet to see you grow the balls to pull a trigger." He spat._

_Sebastian hissed in pain and embarrassment and rubbed at his head. Jace wanted to laugh. Sebastian may be a Rebel Stallion but he was still just a punk. _

_We chatted there, catching up for a long while. The company and the laughter, the sight of my dad, it all seeped into the gaping crevice of my soul. When the conversation slowly trailed off, I stared down at my feet and swallowed. I raised eyes to Valentine and he met them back steadily._

"_Where is she?" I uttered._

_Valentine smirked. "I'm astounded it took you this long to ask." _

_I nodded, abashed. "I didn't want to be rude."_

_The older men chuckled and Valentine gave a jerk of his head. "She's at the clubhouse, working a bar shift." He offered. "We'll head over, not far behind you."_

_That was all the information I needed. With one last shake and hug with my father, I quick walked back to my car. I didn't realize Sebastian was strolling behind me till I opened the door._

_He wore a mischievous grin. "Don't worry, Jace." He drawled. "I've taken good care of her."_

_I looked back at him, cold and hard. If he was fucking insinuating what I thought he was, the man had just about dug his own grave. But I couldn't wait any longer. Without retort, I got in the car and drove the short distance around the block._

_Parked outside the clubhouse were more bikes. I could only barely hear the muffled music from inside. It was still too early for the place to be in full swing._

_I gently pushed in the door but stayed there in the doorway. Nobody paid me any mind at first but gradually, several pairs of eyes found me one after another. Some filled with recognition, some filled with curiosity. The eyes of a couple crow eaters filled with lust._

_However, my eyes secured to the petite red-head behind the bar. Her back was to me, and I could see her hair was longer but vibrant as ever. She had on a dark halter top and tight faded jeans that hugged over her curves in the most appetizing way. She was leaning slightly over the bar top, speaking intensely to some scrawny, lanky guy with tan skin and shaggy, greasy, black hair._

_As more attention found me, the voices slowly died down and I could hear what the pair were talking about. Clary threw a towel over her shoulder and placed a hand on her hip. "All I'm saying is, see what happens if you grab my ass again. I'm not going upstairs with you, got it? I don't fuck bikers." She pronounced clearly._

_The boy gave her a lazy smile, trying to reach for her hand. "And all _I'm _saying is, technically I'm just a Prospect. So, I think we can find some wiggle room between us." He slurred._

"_Jamie, I know plenty a men who would gladly shank you in the ribs for me. But do not think I won't do it myself." She threatened._

"_What about ex-bikers?" My voice finally rang out._

_Clary whipped around her wide green eyes went straight to me. Her shoulders sagged as she released a breath it looked like she holding for the past five years._

"_Who the fuck are you?" Jaime's voice rang out. But we both ignored him._

_Her eyes held mine and without another hesitation, she threw the glasses she held into the sink, one of them shattering. She climbed up on top of the bar and jumped straight down. Her short boots made a resounding clash as they hit the cement floor. She took long strides toward me and my breath quickened the closer she got. I stared at her with nothing but awe. And then she threw herself onto me, her legs circling my waist and her arms around my neck. I caught her with crushing pressure and our lips smashed together like strong magnets. I breathed her in letting her consume every single one of my senses. I forced her mouth open wide and let my tongue plunge against hers._

"_Take me upstairs." She gasped against me. I immediately carried her from the room. People parted out of our way. I took her steadily up the stairs. I didn't need to see where I was going, I had the place memorized. My lips continued to move desperately against hers with every step._

_I opened the door to the same room that I had first taken her so many years ago. I placed her recklessly on the bed, kneeling above her. We parted in a hurry to strip off our shirts. Clary wasn't wearing a bra and I groaned when I saw perfect breasts bounce free, her nipples hard and pink._

"_How are you here?" She gasped._

"_After." I simply grunted, pulling her face back to mine._

_I pulled off her shoes and the rest of her clothes like I was tearing into a present. I stepped back taking off my own pants. And she watched me hungrily, panting, with her legs spread wide. I came back to her, kissing up her chest till I found her lips and my erection found her hot slit. She moaned deep against my mouth when I pressed my hips forward, filling her. I moved in her for hours. Her heated skin sliding against mine, my lips tasting hers, our fingers interlaced. Because despite the frenzy of desire I felt, I needed to savor her._

_In the early morning hours, when Clary was drained of all orgasms and I pumped so much cum in her that it seeped out before I could even remove my shaft, we found our way out the sliding screen door to the small balcony. We sat in two, fold-out chairs and faced the bone yard of scrap metal and spare parts. Clary slipped into my t-shirt and she wore it like a dress. I stretched out in my boxers, the summer heat keeping me warm._

_Clary sat crossed legged with my wallet in her lap. She laughed hysterically and spun a large platinum ring around her index finger. "You got fucking married?" _

_I took another drag of my cigarette and nodded. Her grin made me smile._

"_Probably should have mentioned that _before _we boned." She mumbled nodding toward the disarranged bed inside. She pressed her beer bottle to her lips and took another swig._

"_Would it have mattered?" I asked, knowingly._

_She smirked at me and put her bottle down on the small side-table. She came over and straddled me. Knowing her bare pussy was pressed against me, made my dick twitch. She rested her forehead against mine and answered with, "There is no time, place, or person, that will ever make you less mine."_

_It was an echo of the same words I had once spoken to her. Our promise to each other, when we were still too young to promise anything else._

_I took her hand in mine and traced the faint scar on her palm with my finger. Then I brought it to my mouth for a feather stroke of a kiss._

"_It was against my will, if that makes it any better..." I explained. She merely raised her eyebrows. I knew certainly that she would have only raised one if she capable._

"_Her father is a wealthy acquaintance of Michael. I believe his precise words were 'It would be a wise investment to merge your two platforms.' And when I told him I wasn't interested he made some not so subtle threats about my case being re-opened. As much as I considered telling him to go fuck himself, I figured everything we went through was a waste if I ended up in jail anyway..." I rattled on. "I didn't want you to be disappointed in me." I whispered, finally meeting her eyes._

_She didn't reply, she merely kissed me. Kissed me slow, making all the cravings for her flesh rush back to the surface. But she pulled away all too soon, reaching back for my wallet._

"_Jace Wayland." She enunciated, sounding unimpressed._

"_Michael made me change it." I monotoned, playing with a tendril of her hair. She hummed thoughtfully._

"_Speaking of mine..." I muttered. "You got any other fuckers touching you?"_

_She gave me another smirk. "What if they are?" Her nose grazed along my jawline. "You're not around." She slunk back into her own chair while I frowned at her._

"_I think one bad boy biker is enough for me, Jace." She took another drink from her beer but my eyes bored into her until she rolled her eyes. "There's a boy a town over... He's a good guy, treats me real nice." She relented._

_I dabbed out my cigarette in the ashtray. But a new flame lit in my chest. "What's his name?" I questioned casually._

_Clary chuckled and simply shook her head._

"_What?" I demanded lightly. "You think I'm going to go hunt him down? I've turned over a new leaf remember?" I yanked her chair closer to me, already missing the weight of her body on mine._

_Clary ran her hand through my hair and I briefly closed my eyes at the touch. "You might be cleaner than you used to be, have more money in your pocket, and talk with less of a drawl but my name and another man's in the same sentence will still put murder in your eyes. It always has." She responded._

_I stared at her so intensely, as if I could absorb her into my soul. "Do you love him?" I prompted. My voice came out steadier than I thought it would._

_Her eyebrows furrowed as if the question hurt her. "Do you love your wife?" She bit back._

"_No." I replied without hesitation._

_She gave a soft laugh. It made me wonder if she had had her doubts of what my answer would be. Clary bit lightly at her lip. "Sometimes, I wish I could." She replied slowly. I had never understood the meaning of 'words hurt' until she uttered those._

"_But... ever since I fell in love with you, there's been none left to give."_

_I swallowed hard, and pulled away from her touch. The fire in me was threatening to claw up my throat. Her words did not make it better. If I hadn't disappeared, there would never have been another guy from the town over._

"_What about Sebastian?" I barked._

_Clary straightened, and her eyes drifted around. "He's a good friend." She replied listlessly. In all the years I had known her, I couldn't recall a time she Clary had tried to lie to me. And I realized then why. She fucking sucked at it._

_I took her jaw in my grip and made her look at me. "You slept with him, didn't you?" I coldly accused._

_She jerked her chin out of my grip but didn't answer. And I rammed the palms of my hands into my eyes, slightly hoping to blind myself. "Jesus Christ, Clary!" I shouted._

_She still didn't reply, only sat there, her arms wrapped around herself._

"_When?" I demanded._

"_It was only once."_

"_When?" I said louder._

_She sighed. "It was about a year after you left, I was drunk and vulnerable. The fair was in town and I kept thinking about when we first kissed—"_

"_So, you decided to deface all of that by fucking Sebastian?!" I bellowed, all my self-rage boiling over. I shot up out of my seat and started pacing._

"_I haven't heard from you in five years, Jace!" She shrieked back. "I didn't know if this day would ever come! At least, if you were in jail, I would have gotten to visit you."_

"_That's exactly what I said! But they told me that this is what was best for you, for both of us. There is not a day that goes by that I would rather be in a metal box than walking around in a life that's made me a zombie!"_

_She got up and stormed back inside. I darted in right after her and grabbed her by the arm tossing her back onto the bed. She curled up in on herself sobbing. After several heavy breaths, I laid back down beside her, gathering her tear-stricken face in my hands. I dropped kisses anywhere my lips could find, smearing the salt water. She clung back to me desperately._

"_I forgot to tell you how much I still love you. Just as much as the day we said goodbye." I whispered feverishly._

_Her lips smiled against mine, "I know you do, you idiot." She murmured._

_I growled and pushed up the long t-shirt over her breasts so that I could massage and mold them in my hands. She pulled at the waistband of my boxers until I peeled them down and kicked them off my feet. And just like that I was buried inside her once more. I was in pure bliss and yet pure devastation, knowing that our time was coming to an end._

_When we laid there finished and panting, I told her that I had to go back and I didn't know when I would see her again. But I was certain that I _would _see her again. _

_She bolted up, throwing back on her clothes, sans panties. I tucked those in the pocket of my jeans the first chance I got. "Go say goodbye to the others but you don't leave until I get back, understand?" She warned._

_I nodded a little confused but then she hurried out the door. I got dressed too and made sure I had my belongings. It was still dark out. Sunrise was still a couple hours off. I went back downstairs to the bar, I had expected it to be cleared out but beside some of the passed-out men on the tables, it looked like everyone had stuck around to talk to me._

"_Just saw your girl run out of here!" Sebastian cheered. "Things not go well?" He sounded amused. I stared at him sternly. But I went to speak to my dad and Valentine instead. I spoke with the other men, not about me, I didn't want to talk about me. But about everything in their lives I was missing._

_Jaime walked up to introduce himself and shake my hand. "Ah, you're the kid trying to put his hands where they don't belong." I chastised._

"_Well, I'm sure I'm not the first to do that." He joked but quickly grimaced when the bones of this hands buckled under my grip. He tried to back track. "I mean, I thought they were all just exaggerating that I had 'No shot in hell' until you walked in."_

_I snorted and gave him a nod. But Sebastian walked up looking more intoxicated. "You never know, Jaime." He slurred. I ground my teeth and finished my beer. That was the last straw._

"_Let's go, Seb." I announced, walking toward the door._

_He laughed, "Where are we going?"_

"_Outside."_

_He looked around at the quieting room. His eyes became clearer as anxiety no doubt spiked within him. "Come on, Jace... You don't want to start shit here." He had the audacity to denounce._

_I marched back to him, till we stood toe to toe, my face inches from his. "You obvious disregarded my years of warning. And now you need learn that whether I am here or not, You. Don't. _Fuck. _What belongs to me."_

_Sebastian's face went serious. Then completely aware that I knew what had happened. As did everyone else in the room. According to Club rules, the brothers were to stand by any of their men when threatened. Yet, no one moved, they looked around at each other wearily. Because Sebastian may be a brother but, I was still pure Rebel Stallion blood._

_Sebastian looked over to my father. "Stephan..." He cautioned, like a begging pussy. But it was Valentine that answered._

"_I suggest you step outside, Boy." He said, seething almost as much as myself. It was apparent, he was unaware of the intimate night that transpired between his daughter and Sebastian._

_Sebastian straightened and put on a dumb smirk. "After you." He offered. _

_I made my way straight outside into the gravel lot, Sebastian right on my heels. And as soon as I turned around the punk sucker punched me right in the jaw. I spit out blood, but smiled because my rage only grew. I decided that I would let Sebastian get in more hits than he should. Something inside me felt that this would be punishment for me as well. _

_I swung a left hook right back at him and he wasn't fast enough to duck. He hunched over and tried tackle me around the waist but instead I brought my knee up into his chest and followed it again with my fist. He fought and grunted but jerked his shoulder into my stomach and we both fell to the ground. He climbed on top of me. I blocked my face but he laid in several hits. Each one made me laugh aloud. Michael would wonder what happened to my face when he saw me but I didn't care._

_I could hear moans and hollers from the audience of Rebel Stallions as we both laid into each other. A straight uppercut of my fist, had Sebastian flying backward off me. I climbed to my feet and before the bastard could do the same, I sent a flying kick to his ribs. And then another. And another._

_He flipped to his back, sputtering. I reached over and his shoulders up by the collar of his shirt. Then slammed a couple more punches across his face that dared put its lips on my girl. I dropped him on the rocks. He groaned in pain, clearly done fighting back._

"_You fucking Neanderthals!" Clary's voice shot as she dismounted her bike. I simply laughed, feeling very pleased with myself. She strutted over to me and pulled off her flannel to wipe the blood from my face._

"_Just couldn't help yourself." She sneered, looking at Sebastian who was still on the ground._

_I dropped her a chaste kiss. "You seemed to be doubting my resolve. If I had more time, I'd be spanking your ass, too." I muttered._

_She giggled, and pulled out something from her back pocket. It was a small, outdated, cell phone._

"_A burner phone." She stated. "So, Michael won't know."_

_I kissed her hard that time and took the phone, gripping it tight as if it was my new life line. I pulled her in tight to me and looked over her head as some men helped Sebastian inside. However, Stephan and Valentine stood there, arms crossed, both looking pleased._

"_I think that's my que." I announced. But I didn't go hug my dad one last time. I couldn't handle another 'Goodbye and Good luck.' hug. As if, he felt the same, the two men turned and went inside. That would be the last time I saw my father alive._

_I stood there by my car for a long time kissing her until we had to stop, before I ripped her out of her clothes again. And then I got in the car and drove back to St. Louis. The cavern in my chest split wider with every mile._

_I called her that night on the phone, and every night for weeks. Whenever I was alone that is. But then as time went on the sound of her voice, hurt more than it brought me comfort. Because it was only a reminder that I couldn't touch her, hold her, taste her. And so, I started calling less. And then, so did she. Until, the calls stopped all together and the old cell phone sat alone in a dusty desk drawer while I fell deeper into the hole that Michael dug me. Until, one day, I got a letter stating my father had died..._


	2. After (Part 1)

**After (Part 1)**

"Are you listening to me, Baby?" Jessamine demanded.

Jace blinked over at her. He had zoned out on the road and went on autopilot while he drove the rental car. Jessamine chattered away in his ear. He already regretted her presence.

"No, I'm a little distracted." Jace grounded out. They were only a few minutes away from his old home town. There was a weight on his chest that seemed to crush him more with every mile closer. The plane ride had felt like an eternity in itself. He had not wanted Jessamine to come. He had not even invited her. It was Michael who had weaseled into her head. Insisted that _of course _Jessamine should be by her husband's side in this time of grieving. Bastard.

"Well, I was saying I still think it's best that we go the surrogate route. I mean, this body is my career. We don't want to sacrifice it." She went on.

Jace rolled his eyes. When it came to this discussion it was completely one sided and she never even noticed. It's not that he did not like kids, it was that he couldn't even fathom them. The life he was living was a fake one. He did not want to add a fake child to the charade.

Jace glanced over at his wife again. The black dress she was wearing was more suitable for a red-carpet After Party rather than a funeral. He wondered what Clary would think of her. Assuming she would be there. He had considered calling her out of the blue, but thought best to wait. What would he have said? The sound of her voice would have broken him just as he was impending the sight of her would do that day.

As they pulled through the town, Jace tried to fight the nostalgia that settled around him and keep his eyes on the road ahead of him, until the large fields of grass and headstones came into view. They parked in the cemetery lot. The sky was the gray overcast of Autumn. It seemed fitting for the somber occasion. So many recognizable faces mewled about, heading down the hill and into the mortuary building. Familiar yet aged. There were faces that Jace once remembered to be that of children and yet now they were young adults.

Jessamine typed away at her cell, probably not even had noticed they arrived. "Let's get this over with." Jace grunted. Like the gentleman he was expected to be, he opened her door and helped her out of the vehicle. But he didn't walk hand in hand with her. He stormed down that the side walk, leaving her in his wake. He paused at the entrance, and scowled back at her. She strolled leisurely down the path, her eyes on her phone.

Jace watched as another car pulled into the lot. It drew his attention like an unknown force. Which made complete sense when the red-head stepped out of the passenger side. Every tension inside him melted at the sight of her. She was so damn beautiful. His mortal eyes felt unworthy. She had on thick black leggings and a black tunic dress over it with dark knee-high boots and a leather jacket. She looked like a bad-ass in mourning. And despite everything, it made him want to smile.

That is, until, a man with shaggy brown hair and glasses came around the car and took her by the waist. All the tension that had momentarily left him returned full force.

She leaned into the man for comfort and he tucked a loose strand of wind-gusted hair behind her ear. The sight was something he had never seen, except in his nightmares. His girl in the arms of another. Looking for comfort and protection in the eyes of another. In a not so humorous way, Jace thought he was about to join his father and have a heart attack too.

But those green eyes glanced down the path in front of her and with an open mouth she jerked away from the man and jogged ahead. Yet, when her eyes strayed from Jace's they fell on Jessamine curvy, blonde form and she slowed her paces till she came to a halt.

No. Jace would not let her think that Jessamine was anything to him other than an obligation. He took off in a jog himself and dodged passed his wife, finally raising her attention from her cell.

Clary picked back up her feet and moved until she collided with Jace's chest, his form practically engulfing her. He wanted to wrap her legs around him, pin her to a tree and kiss her breathless. His deceased father would not have minded but the other mourners might have. Instead, he just held her to him, his face buried in her wild curls so that he could draw in her scent like it was pure oxygen.

"I knew you would come." She murmured against his chest.

Jace looked over her head to see the man standing at the top of the hill, his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the two of them with a blank expression. No malice or jealousy. But a weary consideration.

"Is that him? The guy you told me about?" Jace questioned, finally.

Her head nodded against him and then pulled back to look up at his eyes. "Don't worry. He gets it." She comforted. Jace wanted to ask what exactly that meant but thought best to leave the conversation for later. Clary's eyes darted over his shoulder. "And you? Is that your wife?" She smirked already knowing the answer.

"I've never mentioned you." Jace muttered, busy counting each perfect freckle on her face.

"Ouch." Clary replied, though she smiled, clearly not hurt at all. Then, she pulled away and Jace reluctantly released her only because he could hear Jessamine's heels approaching.

The woman's manicured claws circled his arm, claiming territory. "Jace, who's this?" She asked with the plastered smile she saved for the cameras.

"Clary. I'm an old friend of Jace's." She introduced herself but didn't bother to offer a handshake.

"Lovely to meet you. I'm Jace's wife, Jessamine. I'm afraid I haven't heard much about you. Were you two close?"

"He took my virginity, if that's what you're asking." Clary bluntly affirmed. Jace fought a grin. He had always adored her sharp tongue. Jessamine simply blinked back, her camera smile never faltering.

"Is this your boyfriend?" She finally asked as the dark-haired man approached, placing a hand on Clary's lower back. Jace's eyes dropped, watching that hand like a hawk.

"Yes, this is Simon. Simon, Jace and his wife Jessamine." Clary ushered between all of them.

Simon's lips were tight and he gave a curt nod. "They should be starting soon." He murmured to Clary, his eyes back on her. She nodded back. "I'll save you a seat, Jace." She offered quietly as the pair walked away.

Jessamine waited until they were out of ear-shot and entering the building, before she scoffed. "_That_ is one of your exes? You certainly upgraded didn't you." She laughed and Jace glared down at her. He wanted to tell her that she was a complete idiot. That Clary was better than her in every way. And that she wasn't an _Ex. _She may not be his present but she was his past and she was still his future.

"Let's go inside." He spat instead.

Once inside, Jace was greeted by faces pleased to see him. Valentine engulfed him in a hug, calling him Son. He even shook hands with a somber Sebastian. All the while, Jessamine trailed slowly behind him. He tried to ignore her looks of disgust at the burly, dirty, bikers that surrounded them.

When the eulogy started, Jace found a seat for him and Jessamine upfront, right next to Clary and Simon. He kept his eyes on the floor through the whole thing, unwilling to look up at the withered man in the open casket. Sebastian even took a turn to speak and he went on and on about how Stephan had become the true father he never had. Jace didn't realize that his hand was fisted, knuckles white, until Clary's hand slowly caressed it. He eased the tension enough for her to open his palm and interlace their fingers.

"You should get up there and say a few words." She whispered to him.

Jace hesitated, his thumb stroking over hers. "I don't deserve to. I wasn't here." He whispered back.

When Clary replied, her tone was tight. "Jace Herondale, if you do not want Stephan to roll over in his grave and haunt your ass, you will get your ass up."

Jace's mouth twerked on the side, as the Pastor asked if there were any others who wished to speak. "Yes, mam." He replied to Clary and stood, headed for the casket.

The approach felt like slow motion. He had not seen his father in two years and now his father looked like he was merely sleeping. Except those eyes weren't going to ever open again. That welcome home embrace was never going to happen. They would never ride side by side again.

Jace placed his hands down over his deceased father's that were folded over the old man's stomach. He felt cold to the touch. "I'm sorry." Jace could barely utter.

He turned addressing the crowd, his voice strengthening. "I will always regret the years I've spent away. The years I've spent being less than a son should be, while my father always did right by me. Did what he thought was best. The man taught me, above all, loyalty. And that it is something time and distance cannot test. I never thought our last good-bye would actually be the last. But his memory will live on through brotherhood." Jace nodded to the bikers around the room and they nodded back. "And me." He added affirmatively. His eyes ran over the guests and stayed on Clary. She bit at her lip as if there was something Jace had forgot to mention. When his eyes passed over Jessamine, he had to swallow the anger that flamed through him. The woman had her phone out recording the whole thing. No doubt to blast all over her social media.

Jace swallowed and stepped down as the Pastor resumed things. Sitting down next to Jessamine, Jace yanked the phone right out of her hands and she gaped like a fish at him. He deleted the video and shut off her phone before tucking it in the pocket of his suit jacket.

His eyes narrowed on her with menace intent. "This is a private funeral and you're embarrassing me." He furiously condemned. She stared back at him, incredulously, her eyes darting over the people in the large room. Jace could already hear her condescending thoughts. How dare he accuse _her _of being the embarrassment.

The funeral proceeded and Jace stayed even after his father was lowered into the ground. Jessamine had pouted off to the car and Simon had only left when Clary finally asked him to. Valentine kissed his daughters head and then left as well, leaving only the two of them to watch as the grave was filled.

Clary laced her fingers through his once more but Jace pulled her against his chest instead, her back to him and his arms wrapped around her shoulders. His chin rested atop her head and her small fingers gripped onto his forearm.

"People are gathering at the bar after this. You should come... Bring your wife." She said after a long silence. "If you have time."

Jace ran his lips down the arch of her neck. It was the lightest of grazes but her lips parted in a sigh. Even in grief, his desire for her burned in the pit of his stomach. It had been too long. "I'll be here all week." He replied.

She gasped and spun in his arms. "Thank God." She mumbled, burying her face in his chest to inhale. Then, she roughly pushed away from him. "I'll see you at the bar." She stuttered and then took off in a jog to the car.

Jace stared after her, confused by the abrupt parting but he let her flee, back to her _boyfriend. _Bile rose in his throat at the thought of her even touching another man. He leisurely tucked his hands in his pockets and looked back down at the mound of dirt that covered the grave before him. And then nodded a final farewell.

Jace didn't even tell Jessamine where they were going and she didn't bother to ask. Instead, she ranted about the dump of a town full of equally trash people.

"Wait... Excuse, me! What the hell is this place?" She demanded when they pulled up to a shabby building.

"It's the Rebel Stallion's bar." Jace answered, completely ignoring her indignation.

"We are not going in there! We are calling the lawyer to meet as soon as possible tomorrow and then we are leaving!"

Jace cleared his throat, and rang his hands on the steering wheel. "Let me explain something to you." He articulated calmly. "I do not give a fuck about what you do, but I am staying here and taking care of some business because contrary to what you believe, my life did not start with you." Jessamine tried to interrupt him but he sliced her with a hard glare and continued. "I do not give a fuck about what you think or say about this town or these people because you are wrong. So, now you have three options. Head back to New York on your own, stay and shut your trap, or spend the next five days tied to the bed post of our hotel room." He threatened, and it wasn't a bluff. Jace had never spent much time confronting her. He never cared enough to, but now she was in his world and would abide by his rules.

"What's it going to be?" He reiterated.

Jessamine narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms but her trap stayed shut. "Perfect." Jace complimented and got out of the car. He didn't bother to open the door for her, she was on her own. Although, she quickly scurried after him and clung to his arm as Jace pushed through the entrance. The place was full of bikers and OL' Ladies and children and friends. All those who were weeping a mere, couple hours earlier, were then laughing and toasting to Stephan's name.

Jace grinned, a real grin, he had not felt in a long time. Rebel Stallion brothers greeted him and cheered his arrival and shook hands. When he finally made it to the bar, his little red-head was behind it to greet him with a beer. "Hey, there again, Handsome." She smiled.

Jace looked over both shoulders at all the heads of people. "Where's the guy?" He questioned.

"He thought it best to call it an early evening." She responded, well aware of who he spoke of. She then gave him a wink and Jace began to salivate.

Jessamine snapped her fingers beside him. "Oh, look who's here. Mary, was it? You're a bartender? How fitting. I'll take a cosmopolitan, thank you." She sneered. Clary just smirked back at her, unfazed.

However, Jace leaned over to growl in the blonde's ear. "It's Clary. And what did I say about shutting that mouth?"

"Everyone around here calls her Baby Girl. Ain't that right?" Valentine's deep voice chatted from the other side of Jessamine. He shot his daughter a wink and she rolled her eyes before turning to get more drinks.

"What's your name, Beautiful?" He asked of Jessamine, with a devilish smile. Jace raised an eyebrow. He had seen Valentine charm a woman into his bed many a time, and that's exactly how it always started. And yet, he could not have cared less. Valentine could preoccupy his wife all he wanted. Jace had more important things to attend to.

"Here you are." Clary pushed a tall glass of brown liquid in front of Jessamine. It looked like the farthest thing from a cosmopolitan. But Clary didn't wait for an objection. "I'm going to go in the back and collect some more glasses." She announced. Her gleaming eyes of green, danced over Jace in a wicked glance.

Jace read that signal loud and clear. He finished off his beer and slammed the mug back down. "I'll help." He chorused, walking around Jessamine and clapping Valentine on the shoulder as he passed. On his way into the backroom, he reached for the volume knob for the speakers and cranked up the music.

It was dark in the deep closet, a dim lightbulb dangling overhead to light the place. Dusty shelves lined the walls, full of boxes and racks of bar equipment. Jace and Clary had just been teenagers the last time they stowed away in the room. It brought back memories that made his cock stiffen.

Clary was in the back, stacking heavy racks of glasses as if that's really what she came back there for. Jace approached her and took a rack from her hands to set it aside, before gripping her by the waist. Clary smirked up at him and let him take over as he pushed her back until she bumped into a small extra bar table. He looked down at her with the hunger of a starved man.

"So, you're going to bend me over back here while your wife sits just on the other side of this wall?" She goaded.

With an easy lift, Jace sat her on the table and stepped in between her legs. His forehead pressed against hers and his lips feather dusted along her mouth as he fought restraint and temptation. "Nope. I'm going to fuck you on this table with every part of you pressed up against me." He breathed.

Clary chuckled, well aware that he had avoided the important part of the question. "And your wife?" She pushed, drawing back with a tease before he could claim the soft lips of hers.

"What's a _wife_ compared to my _everything_?" He countered with a groan. One of his hands ran not too gently up her body until it cupped the back of her neck. She was so soft and warm and familiar. He wanted her familiar wet heat to engulf him, as well.

Clary eyed his lips, her breaths quick turning to pants of desire. "Do I have to keep quiet?" She whimpered as Jace pulled off her leggings and hiked up her short dress. He cradled her face gently but when his mouth found hers, the kiss was hard and punishing. He wanted her so bad, it overwhelmed him.

"You scream my name as loud as you want, Baby Girl." He commanded, taking out his length. Just as eager, Clary grabbed for him. She placed him at her entrance and pressed her dripping slit onto him, with a deep, erotic moan.

Her head fell back when Jace bucked into her once more, sinking his member to the hilt. Sounds of pleasure poured from her lips with each thrust. The rickety table buckled and rapped against the wall from their savage and desperate movements. Heaving, Jace yanked at the dipped collar of her dress until one of her breasts spilled out. His mouth and tongue suctioned around her nipple with a crazed moan. He needed more of her. More of her in his mouth, more of her skin under his palms.

Clary was cursing and mewling his name in his ears. Her grip tightened on his shoulders and her pussy mimicked the action, squeezing and milking at his cock while her wetness flooded further around him. However, Jace had no intention of stopping things there. Being inside her was a punishment and a blessing. A reminder and promise, that the only real thing in their lives was that moment right then, between them.

Clary's slim body trembled against him, a horse cry tearing from her throat as another orgasm wracked through her. The sound of it had his shaft and balls constricting with pressure as his seed pumped inside her. Pleasure bathed through him causing all of his muscles to strain and his fingertips dug into her ribs. Clary panted and her exhausted, swollen lips latched onto his mouth, her tongue sweeping through and driving out another groan from his chest. The woman would forever be his weakness and his strength.

Jace gulped as they both tried to regain their breathing and equilibrium. He slid himself out of her but his hands spread her thighs wide. He watched with a smirk as his milky white cum seeped out of her still pulsing folds. Clary gave his shoulder a playful nudge but her lone finger reached down to curl through her slit before she placed it to her mouth and sucked it clean.

Jace watched the action mesmerized. "You are gorgeous." He rasped. Still smirking, Clary nodded to the shelf behind him. He looked over his shoulder and spied a folded pile of bar rags. He snatched one and handed it to her so that they could both clean up.

When they were decent, Jace palmed her face once more and left greedy, sensual kisses along her lips and jaw. "I've missed you." He lamented.

Clary's eyelashes fluttered, her eyes on his chest as her fingers played with the buttons on his shirt. "I know." She hesitated and Jace could feel again there was something she was not telling him. He had always been able to sense her secrets. "I want you to come to my place after this. There is something I need to show you." She finished.

"Yes." Jace answered without hesitation. Clary tucked her lip in trying to fight a smile but Jace's thumb tugged on her chin until she released, so that he could nibble that bottom lip with his teeth.

His red-head pushed at him, begging for a little distance after another whine of wanting escaped her. "I should get back out there before anyone sobers up." She chuckled. She slid around him patting his rear end. "Grab those glasses for me."

When they got back out of the closet, Jace spotted Jessamine on a stool by the pool table. Valentine loomed over her but she was smiling. "I think your Pops wants to bone my wife." He informed Clary as he followed her behind the bar to help.

She snorted, handing someone a beer. "Jealous?"

Jace smirked and spread a hand over her stomach to press her back into him. "He can keep her. We'll call it a trade." He replied. He hooked a finger into her shirt collar, pulling it askew to expose more of her collar bone. Creamy, freckled skin beckoned him and he could feel his erection come back to life. He dropped his lips in a soft, chaste kiss to the tender flesh.

"Let me get this straight!" Barked a familiar biker with slicked back, black hair. Jace remembered his name was Jaime. "This hot piece of ass, that you never see, is off limits with the threat of a death sentence but your _wife _is free game?" He demanded.

Jace smirked at Clary and her expression matched his. "Mind your business." Jace responded, but passed the boy another beer.

By the end of the night Jessamine was completely blacked-out wasted and dry humping Valentine with her tongue down his throat. Jace had half a mind to let them spend the night together but did not have time to deal with the morning drama.

Clary road shotgun next to Jace while his wife snored in the back seat. He carried the sloppy woman to their hotel room and tossed her into the bed along with a plastic water bottle and then went back to the car.

Jace got in the driver side and peered over at Clary's small frame. "This is weird." He stated.

Clary glanced about with an odd expression. "You're going to have to specify which part." She chuckled.

She was right. Their whole life situation was pretty fucked-up. But Jace relished the relief he felt that no matter what obstacle they seemed to face, Clary remained his, remained on his side.

"I meant travelling with you beside me. I preferred you sitting behind me with your arms wrapped around my chest." He explained.

Clary's eyes bore out the windshield, her soft smile wistful. "It's okay, I abandoned my bike not long after you left the last time."

The feeling that she was hiding something, burrowed through him once more. "Baby Girl—" He started but Clary cut him off.

"Stay the night with me?" It was more of a demand than a question and yet, he had no intention of denying her.

Jace drove through the quiet roads, Clary giving him a direction here and there. The narrow two-lane streets were just another blessing compared to the city. They pulled up to a small place. The lights were still on inside, glowing through the front window and screen door.

Clary got out of the car and walked straight in. Jace trailed just behind, he first retrieved his suitcase from the car trunk. And when he stepped over the threshold, the screen door slamming shut behind him, his whole face went slack in shock.

Clary crouched low to the floor with her arms spread open wide. "There's my baby boy." She cooed, as a little toddler with blonde curls waddled into her embrace. Clary picked him up, pressing hard kisses to his full cheeks. A thin, aged woman stood by. "I just couldn't get him to sleep for you." She admitted. Clary smiled kindly and thanked the woman, whom she called Maggie, for babysitting. Maggie gave Jace's frozen form a few weary glances. But Clary didn't bother to introduce him. Instead, she said goodnight and showed the other woman out the backdoor through the kitchen.

Jace heard all this transpire but his eyes had remained fixed on the drooling little boy poised on Clary's hip. He couldn't have even been two years old yet. Jace studied the shape of the baby's ears, the build of his small shoulders, the sun-kissed color of his skin and finally the green shade of his eyes.

"Can you say 'Hi' to, Daddy? Da-da?" Clary asked the little boy, as she strolled up to Jace with a smile. Jace was stoic with wide-eyes and had yet to move. However, Clary handed the boy to Jace easily, and his hands instinctively came up to take him.

She walked off, removing her jacket and shoes. "He doesn't do much talking yet. Just a handful of words. Apple, ball, puppy. Pops. Ma-ma is his favorite." She rambled, casually. Whereas Jace could feel every nerve snapping with sudden electricity through him. Down his back, arms, and chest.

"Ma-ma." The little boy mumbled, pointing out to Clary in confirmation. The air rushed out of Jace in a whoosh and his eyes suddenly became dry and sensitive. With a hand that trembled the slightest, he petted the baby's soft, blonde curls.

"His name is Jonathan Christopher Herondale, by the way." Clary's small voice offered. "Sometimes we call him J.C."

Jonathan's hand came up to stroke the rough stubble on Jace's chin. Jace finally tore his eyes from the boy to find Clary. She sat comfortably on the couch, a cheek rested in her hand, as she stared at the two of them.

Jace hesitated, finding the right words. He damn well knew the 'How.' And he was smart enough to decipher the 'When,' as well. "Why?" He finally uttered, knowing she would understand. Why didn't she tell him?

Clary bit her lip, her eyes casting down. "... You stopped calling." She whispered and then quickly went on. "And I know why. It was hard for me, too. Trying to find something to say besides how much it hurts to miss you. And it didn't hurt any less to hear about a life that I'm not a part of."

Jace took a seat on the couch beside her, supporting Jonathan on his knee. He half expected him to reach over for Clary but instead, the clearly sleepy baby, leaned into Jace's chest. His eyes becoming heavy. Jace rested his mouth atop Jonathan's head, breathing in the scent of the child he didn't know he had.

"But I was going to tell you." She insisted. "And then one day, I got a call from Michael." Jace's eyes snapped to attention, blazing. She looked at him sadly. "It was weird. He said that you had mentioned me before, several years ago, when you first moved to New York. And he wanted to know if I would like to come out for a visit."

The only thing keeping Jace's muscles from lashing out in anger was the fragile child caged in them.

"I told him that I didn't want anything to do with you. And then I changed my number. But it scared me, Jace. After everything you told me about him. I realized I was a liability for you and I couldn't let this guy use me or our baby against you. And if Michael really is dangerous... the less he could find out about, the better."

Jace nodded stiffly. Clary's eyes were imploring him. Deciphering him had never been too hard for her but she could not decide what he was thinking. And neither could Jace. He was practically blacking out with silent rage. For a long time, Jace hated himself for ruining his own life. And then, once, Michael had mentioned that it was probably in Jace's preference that things had gone the way they did. For Michael had already intended to retrieve him 'for his mother.' But he implied the other options would have implicated the Rebel Stallions.

He looked down at the peacefully sleeping toddler in his arms. Clary was right to keep their child a secret. Michael was a power drunk. He had naively thought it was just him. But it was clear then, that they were in danger, too. His woman and his son. Maybe even his brotherhood. They were under threat. It would only be a matter of time. And Jace wouldn't let that happen.

He stood up without another word. "Let's go to bed." He spoke. Clary obeyed, leading the way to a small room in the back. Big enough for her queen-sized bed and dresser. Moonlight streamed through the gauze curtains.

Jace laid Jonathan in the middle of the bed. Clary went into the bathroom while Jace pulled his bag out and changed into fleece pajama bottoms. When Clary came out of the bathroom, she stripped out her leggings and dress. Jace stood there at the side of the bed, waiting. And when she was down to her underwear, he handed her the t-shirt he had been previously wearing under his button-down. She had always worn his t-shirts when they spent the night together. That primal side of him, liked her to be marked by his scent.

She stepped before him, and let him slide it onto her like a nightgown. He stood, moving out of the way so that Clary could lie down. For a moment he stood there staring down at the two. His beautiful red-head curled around their son. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple and climbed in on the other side of the baby.

Jace laid there awake for a long time, even after sleep had taken Clary. He watched their deep even breaths. It was strange. He had been a father for about a year and half without any knowledge. And as he watched the little boy sleep, he was sure he already loved him as much as Clary. Clary, the sole person Jace was certain that he would forever love most in the world.

And in just a few days, he was expected to leave both of them behind once again. He would rather face death... But no. Neither of those were options.

Jace had always been the enforcing type. When something needed done, he did it. When he wanted something, he took it. Very few obstacles seemed worth the brain power of solving. That was Clary's forte. Physical force suited him just fine. Consequences be damned. Of course, that's how pulling the trigger on Starkweather and committing second-degree murder had come so easily, without another thought. He did what he had to do. He went the furthest length to ensure his girl's safety. And then, the outcome had made him believe it was a mistake... But the real mistake was that he hadn't done the same for the past seven years. He had fucking let Michael take his life, his name, his happiness because deep in his darkness he thought he deserved it. But his family didn't.

Michael had become a problem. And he needed dealt with.

The next morning Clary sat at the small kitchen table, big enough for just two. She sipped her cup of fresh, hot coffee. An idle finger traced the bottom of the mug where the ceramic had started to crack. She sat in the silence. The weather had become too cold for the chirps of any morning birds. But the silence wasn't deafening. The faucet in the hall bathroom dripped and the hinges of the screen door in the kitchen creaked under the pressure of the autumn wind.

Jace slept in the bedroom, with his son's small body pressed up against him. Jace's arm made a fitting pillow for the little boy. Jonathan was usually an early riser but Clary herself had spent many years sleeping wrapped in the warmth of Jace. She too could have snoozed there all day.

For a long time, she thought the fantasies of a snuggled night with her family were long gone. And then it came out of nowhere. Perhaps that's what the rest of her life with/without Jace would be. A collection of blessed moments. But maybe in some way that's all life is for everyone.

Her eyes drew from the recess of space when the screen door opened slightly and Simon stepped in. His hair tossed and windblown.

"Hi." He said coming to leave a gentle kiss on her head. "Good morning."

Clary smiled quietly at him and took another sip of her coffee.

Simon stepped around for a minute, looking about, with his hands weighed into the pockets of his heavy jacket. "So, uh, I saw his car out there in the front..." He commented. "And he doesn't appear to be on the couch." He added, his gaze accusingly raking over the oversized gray t-shirt she wore.

However, her eye contact didn't waiver. "We didn't have sex, here. If that's what you're asking." She replied casually and took another sip. Although, her words had been precisely chosen.

Simon sighed and shook his head down in dismay. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse of you anything..." Though his eyes glared furiously again at the shirt she wore.

"I was just doing a lot of thinking last night, you know." He pulled out the chair across from her. "Part of me never expected to actually meet Jace. And yesterday... it was tough for you and that was his Dad. I get it... Jace was clearly happy to see you." Clary furrowed her brow slightly as Simon rambled. "But then you said he would be here all week? And I'm trying to figure out what that means? For us? To him?"

He looked at Clary expectantly but when she didn't reply, he continued on. "Clary, I know when we first met, you made it clear that you were in love with a guy that you couldn't be with. And I have always understood that. With the way he left, it makes sense that you would have some unresolved feelings. But at the same time, you guys dated for only 3 years before things happened. And we've been seeing each other for nearly twice that long. Granted we didn't make things official until after Jon-"

At that point, Clary cut in. "Jace and I never started dating." She articulated. "We started having sex... But if dating is spending time with someone that you're in love with? Then Jace and I were 'dating' our whole lives." Her tone hinted in irritation.

"There's history there. Yeah. But _I'm _your boyfriend, now. Last time he swept in here and left you _pregnant," _He hissed the word in a whisper as if to emphasize the taboo of it all. "I was the one here to take care of you."

"What are you asking, Simon?" She bit out.

"What happens this week? Does this guy expect to just be able to come in and fuck my girlfriend while I turn a blind-eye? Commitment might not mean anything to him but it does to me. I'm obviously not going to be okay with that." He asserted, slightly frustrated that he even had to say it.

Clary almost snorted. She was fairly certain Simon's feelings were the last thing on Jace's list of shits to give. And Simon was wrong. Commitment, loyalty... it meant everything to Jace. It just didn't always look the same in someone else's eyes.

"I got the impression that he may be a decent guy. And maybe he still does have feelings for you but he needs to know the boundaries."

Someone did snort that time, but it wasn't Clary.

Jace stepped through the open kitchen doorway, shaking his head with a grin. His hair, disheveled from sleep, looked less neat than the day before. And instead of the suit, he wore faded jeans and a black t-shirt whose short-sleeved fabric barely stretched over his bi-ceps. Large tattoos of shades and colors, decorated here and there on each arm. Horses, skulls, guns, Latin phrases, red-roses wound with wild-flowers... He didn't really scream 'decent guy' anymore.

And basically, just to prove that, he stooped over Clary and pinched her face. His thumb and fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her cheeks, forcing her lips into a pucker. So that he could press a hard kiss on to them. "Morning, Baby Girl."

Jace strode over to the cabinets. "Where are the coffee cups?" He asked opening various ones and shutting them again.

"The one at the end." Clary instructed. Though she was watching Simon struggle in disbelief as he fought to find words. She wondered if he would actually say something. And then she wondered if she would have time to take him to get stitches before brunch with Valentine.

Amidst stirring his coffee, Jace tossed her a disapproving glance. "What's he doing, here?" He questioned.

"I could ask her the same thing." Simon voiced.

Jace turned around with a smirk. His butt pressed back into the cabinet drawer and he crossed one foot over the other. "And what would she say?" He prodded with smug, curious eyes on Clary. Those eyes not so subtly ran down her figure to her bare cream thighs.

"That's up to each of you, isn't it?" She challenged, boredly twirling a lock of hair.

"I have some business to take care of with Valentine after breakfast, Baby Girl." Jace abruptly announced, Simon forgotten. "I want to take Jon to the clubhouse with me. I need you to entertain Jessamine for a few hours."

Clary scoffed at him. "Yeah, right."

Jace's eyes narrowed a fraction over the rim of the coffee mug. "I'm not asking." He stated, his voice low and hard.

Clary glared at the table in front of her and huffed through her nose. "Fine." She softly relented.

There came a soft whine from the other room. Jace's eyes lit up and he set his mug down before hurrying out of the kitchen.

"Wha— What the heck was that all about?" An aghast Simon stuttered. Clary sighed and went to the sink to wash out their cups. Simon hovered behind her.

"He came in here laying some claim on you right in front of me? And then he started making demands and you're just going to submit?" He demanded, utterly baffled.

Clary smiled to herself in nostalgia. "I almost forgot how we look to everyone else." She murmured. Jace and Clary had their own way of communicating. This mix of rough and sweet. Harsh and gentle. And just between them, Jace had not been making demands. He was begging.

"And you're just going to let him take Jon? Just like that?" He continued to badger.

"Why shouldn't I? He just found out he has a son. Obviously, he wants to spend some time with him."

"To the clubhouse, though? I already don't think J.C. should be spending time there."

She heard what he didn't say. How could she _trust_ Jace with her son? As if Jace was some stranger. Some kind of dangerous. As if time was supposed to have changed him into someone Clary no longer knew. As if distance would have the power to deteriorate the bond they had formed through their life and Clary was merely clinging to disillusioned scraps... Yes, she wouldn't have expected Simon to assume anything less.

"And I already told you that it's fine. I grew up around the MC. I survived." She affirmed.

"Yeah, you survived. But are you _okay?"_

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Clary growled, dropping the mug back into the soapy water so that she could turn on him.

Simon held his hands up in defense. "I'm not having this argument again."

But Clary wasn't having it. "You think I don't know what my family is? What they do?" She seethed, still keeping her voice low as if she actually cared about the privacy of their conversation. "But they're my _family, _Simon. I don't know what that means to you but to me it means that for all I care, the rest of the world can burn." She exulted and went back to her furious scrubbing.

"And me?" Simon quavered. "How do you feel about me?" His voice tried to hold back the simmering anticipation.

Clary sighed and grabbed Simon by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him close. "I don't know what I would have done without you all these years, Si. But you have been trying to save me since we met. When are you going to realize that I belong in this world? That this is a choice, not a sentence."

"I don't believe that." He said earnestly pressing his forehead to hers and holding her face. "I love you, Clary. You need to stop trying to convince me not to." He breathed, his mouth running over hers in a gentle kiss.

Jace's voice trickled down the hall, sounding in the middle of a one-sided conversation. "But that's a secret, so don't tell Mommy." He cooed to Jonathan. He cut off abruptly at the sight in the kitchen.

Clary's hands fell from Simon's jacket and she stepped away. However, her eyes challenged Jace's glare. He had thrown on his leather jacket and looked ready to leave to where Clary could only assume.

Jace silently put their son down and the little boy scurried off into the living room where his toy trucks laid about. But Jace didn't see. His eyes were zeroed in on Simon, who was scowling at Clary for her retreat.

Clary crossed the room, grabbing Jace's hand. "Come on." She ordered, tugging him for the front door. But Jace barely budged. He stood there fuming, his chest growing fuller with each breath. "Now, Jace!" She snapped with a hard jerk of his arm. She grew anxious. The longer it took Jace to get out of the room the more danger Simon was in and the boy didn't even realize it. Jace suddenly turned and stormed past her, becoming the one to tow her along.

"You can't hurt him." She said as soon as the door shut behind her.

"Like hell I can't." Jace retorted, massaging the aching urge in his fists.

"You're not going to hurt him. He doesn't deserve it." She urgently persisted.

Jace gave her an unamused laugh. "If he keeps fucking talking, he just might. So much for 'he gets it.'" He mocked in disgust.

Clary's arms flapped against herself in frustration. "Well, what the hell did you expect Jace?"

"You know what, Clary? I've never expected people to get it. I _expect _to have to make it clear." He fumed back at her.

Gravel crackled to the right of them as Simon's car backed out Clary's driveway. They could see him furiously scowling through the windshield. And then he turned and drove on down the street without stopping.

Jace turned back to Clary to say something else but the red-head's face grew dark. "Why don't you go check on your wife?" Her quiet voice coldly suggested.

With shame, Jace deflated instantly. "Clary..." He croaked in pleading, but she had already whipped around and went back inside.

Jace reluctantly left and headed back to the hotel. As soon as he entered the room, Jessamine was on him. "Where the _fuck _have you been?" She raged.

"Calm down. I went back to the bar after I dropped you off and I spent the night there."

"So, you just left me here with some water and my suitcase? Where's my fucking phone, Jace?!" She desperately held out her hand.

Jace rolled his eyes and took her cell out of his pocket. She snatched it and immediately stomped over the charger that was already plugged in. Her arms crossed tight around herself and she sat on the bed next to it, anxiously. She looked like a pouting child.

"Hurry up and get ready. We're getting breakfast with some people." Jace informed.

"Uhm. I don't think so."

Jace shrugged, picking his keys up once more. "Fine. I'll see you later." He replied, unbothered.

"Wait! Fine!" She quickly relented.

However, Jace didn't pause. "Good. I'll be waiting in the car."

It took Jessamine a good twenty minutes before she finally came out of the hotel. She wore an over the top coat of faux fur and sunglasses that covered most of her face. Thankfully, she didn't feel very chatty on the drive. Although, she made her distaste apparent as soon as they pulled up to Taki's diner.

"This place is disgusting." She sniffed. "And that hotel really isn't much better. I still can't believe you just left me there—OMG." She cut off in humorous astonishment. "Your little Ex has a bouncing baby brat! Awe, an illegitimate kid. I really shouldn't be surprised." She stared out the windshield at the small group of bikers and women that waited at the diner's doors. Jace smiled when he saw Clary patiently walking behind Jon as the toddler explored the diner's front landscaping.

"Jace..." Jessamine started. "That kid... He doesn't look anything like that girl's boyfriend. He actually looks a lot like..."

Jace kept his face blank. It was so obvious that the boy looked just like him. He tried to decide whether or not to try and lie his way out of things.

"Your Dad!" Jessamine exclaimed as if she had just solved some great mystery. She laughed sinisterly. "That bitch was totally hooking up with your Dad. Wow. Could things here get anymore white-trash?"

Jace chuckled once, too. But for a completely different reason. Jessamine was even denser than he had previously given credit for. "Interesting." He murmured in reply and stepped out of the vehicle. Jessamine did the same and when he rounded the car, her nails dug into his forearm.

"What the hell is she doing here, anyway?" She hissed.

"She's Valentine's daughter? My dad's VP? His best friend?" He dubiously questioned, assuming she may have picked up on some of those details at the funeral.

Jessamine quirked her eyes, none of it ringing a bell.

"The man who was playing hockey with your tonsils last night?"

Jessamine went erect. "I have no idea what you're talking about." And Jace knew then that she knew _exactly _what he was talking about. Especially, when Valentine walked right up to her.

"Morning, Darling. You sleep well?" He said.

Jessamine fluffed up her collar. "I'm afraid I had too much to drink last night and don't remember anything." She immediately insisted.

"Well, we've all been there, of course." He grinned, placing a hand low on her back. "Peggy and the boys are getting a big table together for everyone." He explained, directed to Jace, as well. Then, his voice lowered to a more intimate level when he offered Jessamine a mimosa to kick off her morning. He led her inside with him.

Meanwhile, Jace stalked the little toddler running around. He swooped Jon up suddenly, earning a childish squeal of delight. Jace's fingers wiggled around the boy's ribcage with tickles that brought out high-pitched giggles. The sound made Jace grin. As did the smirk on Clary's face as she watched the two boys play.

"Look who's all cooled off and happy to see me, again." He observed, stepping over to her. He tucked a wisping tendril of fiery-red hair behind her ear and ran a thumb over the light freckles of her cheekbone. "You know you love me."

Clary's brow furrowed and she bit her lip. "Heart-breakingly so." She whispered in agreement. She pressed her chest into him and tilted her chin up further. Jace answered by dipping his head to gently kiss her sweet lips. He did it because kissing her was the most natural thing to him, next to breathing. If Jessamine saw, so be it. His business with her would come to an end soon enough.

Problem was, even the little kisses with her left him wanting more. Because as soon as Clary tried to pull away Jace palmed the back of her head. His tongue traced the inside of her bottom lip and Clary sighed into him. Reluctantly, she gave him another shove, this time harder and Jace grinned at the deep blush in her cheeks.

Little J.C. who was still in Jace's arms, reached out for his Mama. Jace handed him over happily and lead the two inside along with everyone else.

They sat down in a large group section. Jessamine had been placed between two large men in nothing but wife-beaters and cuts. Jace sat by Clary and Valentine at the opposite end. He placed Jon in his lap so that the little boy could color.

"Baby Girl, I see your little friend Silas didn't stay and chat yesterday. Jace here scare him off?" Valentine started, full of baiting humor.

Jace immediately knew he was talking about Simon and clearly not with approval. He smirked at Clary, who was glaring her father. "Don't." She grunted.

"Still doing whatever it takes to piss Daddy off, I see." He commented.

Valentine nodded. "Her little friend doesn't like us very much. Not that he's welcome among us, anyway."

Jace grinned. "We had a conversation about him this morning. Never thought I'd say this but I'm glad you're stubborn with a blessing."

Valentine scoffed. "As far as I'm concerned. I only had one blessing to give and you already got it. Why she wastes her time with that fool I'll never know."

Chuckling, Jace petted his son's blonde curls. "Was that blessing before or after the baseball bat?" He wondered.

"Beating you with the baseball bat _was _your blessing!"

They laughed together in a way that made Jace miss his father. Being home brought a feeling of absence that he had long grown numb to. Being surrounded by family. Clary's presence. It was like being whole again. And he realized it was happiness and that he had forgotten the meaning of the word. Going back to anything less just might destroy him.

* * *

**I did say there would be long chapters but this (After) just seemed excessive so I broke it into 2 parts, just to make reading easier.**


	3. After (Part 2)

**After (Part 2)**

After the darling, little, family brunch with the love of her life and his fucking wife... Clary stood outside, nursing a cigarette. She watched Jace and Jessamine arguing off to the side while Valentine took J.C. to be buckled in his car seat.

Jessamine suddenly put on a large grin and strutted her way over to Clary. Jace trailed behind, unamused. "Clary, is it? So glad to spend some girl time with you today. I would just love to know all about Jace's past. This is just great!" Jessamine yapped with a tense grin. Clary was impressed, she almost sounded sincere.

Clary dropped the cigarette, twisting it into the pavement with the toe of her boot. "You don't have to feel awkward around me just because we've both had Jace's cock in our ass." She responded bluntly. Jessamine's mouth slowly parted, her eyes wide.

Jace smirked beside her and raised an eyebrow at Clary. The red-head's eyes chased between the two in their tense silence. "Or maybe just mine." She shrugged. "But there is only one of us that he's in love with, right?" She winked, turning on her heel. "Let's go, Barbie!"

They drove in silence. Jessamine simmered. Her shoulders bunched tight in her over-the-top coat. She was clearly used to making other women feel inferior. Clary found it entertaining.

She pulled in front of a small boutique in town. Her friend Emma, owned it. Most likely, it was the closest thing in the town to Jessamine's standards. "You know, I'm not the only woman still in this town who Jace has dipped his wick into." She casually commented, picking up on the tension pouring off of the other woman.

Jessamine deflated lightly, her picture-perfect smile returning. "Well, in that case-"

"I'm just the only one that mattered." She quipped, giving Jessamine a dainty smile of her own. Then, she popped her door open before Jessamine had anything else to say.

The two ladies entered the boutique. The bell chimed above them. And the owner, Emma, peeked around a hanging rack. The boutique was stuffed full for its small size but she made decent business. "What's up, Baby Girl?" She greeted upon seeing her. Like Jace, once, Emma used the nickname ironically. Yet, like most everyone, it eventually became natural and endearing. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Jace's wife." Clary said wryly. Emma's mouth fell open. "You remember Jace, right?" She added, giving her friend a pointed looked. Emma parents were part of the MC, as well. She was only a couple years younger, but unlike Clary and Jace, her mother actually gave a damn and didn't think having her impressionable child run around the clubhouse, at all hours, was a good idea. It wasn't until after Jace left that Clary saw more of Emma and they became close.

'Shut the fuck up.' Emma mouthed, looking Jessamine over. The blonde was already combing through a rack of clothes. Judgement clear on her face.

"Yeah... rings a bell." Emma finally drawled. "How can I help you?"

Jessamine cleared her throat, finally turning her attention to Emma. She shot out her hand. "Jessamine Lovelace. Maybe you've heard of me. I kept my name after Jace and I got married because my brand is just expanding so fast and I couldn't jeopardize that. Anyways, I have a vast social media following. You have some decent pieces here. I could post some photos and tag your business if you like. Discounts are usually given in exchange not that I can't afford it." She prattled on, while giving each rack a look over and grabbing a piece here and there of which she thrust into Emma's arms.

"Exposure is always appreciated." Emma replied. She turned to Clary, her face completely amused. "This is too good." She muttered. Clary smirked in agreement.

Jessamine spent a good, few hours trying on clothes and accessories. She made it clear that her taste was of the highest degree. Meanwhile, Clary sat by on the counter. A force of stone trying to make idle chit chat.

"So, since you're somewhat of a celebrity. How did you and Jace meet?" She questioned.

Jessamine fluffed at her collar. "It was some fancy work thingy of my dad's. I'm sorry is this synthetic silk?" She met eyes with Emma through the mirror.

Emma drummed her nails on the counter. "Came straight from the silk worm farm, actually." She deadpanned.

"Well, are they free range? Because this is _course,_ as hell."

Emma straightened and smoothed her dirty-blonde hair that fell all the way down to her waist. The under-layer of her hair stood out in streaks of dyed black. She breathed in deeply, whisper counting to herself and walked away.

"And what was it that Jace found so irresistible? Your charm or your wit?" Clary muttered, holding back a smile.

"Both." She answered, cupping one of her breasts in each hand for suggestion. "Which, you must understand, is why it's hard for me believe you two dated..." Her eyes raked despairingly over Clary's form. "No offense." She smiled.

"Familiarity." Clary supplied with a wrinkle of her nose. "Our dads were best friends."

Jessamine pursed her lips, fussing with the hem of a leather skirt "So, you two were close _before _you started whoring yourself out to him?"

Clary slipped off the counter and strolled over to the table of accessories. "Let's see... Jace was the third person to hold me after I was born. First my father. And then Jocelyn claimed to be too exhausted from her c-section." It was hard to keep the disdain for her mother out of her voice. "So, Stephan held me instead when he arrived, and then placed me in Jace's lap. And you know how toddlers are, if you give them something, they think its theirs to keep." She smiled secretly as if just for herself, while she absent-mindedly fidgeted with the necklace chains. "Oh, and we stayed close... Even after I started whoring myself out to him."

Jessamine puckered her red lips, watching Clary through the mirror. "Well you couldn't have been that close... Obviously not enough to keep him." She drawled, observing her reaction.

Clary picked up a bracelet, her small smile unwavering. "Here, try this with it." Her eyelashes batted. Jessamine held out her wrist and Clary fastened the thin chain.

On the soft curve of Clary's palm was a thin white scar that looked old and stretched. "That's an interesting scar." Jessamine commented.

"Is it interesting because you know Jace has the same one?" Clary supplied, straightening the bracelet after securing the latch.

"Does he?" Jessamine feigned ignorance.

"You want to know how we got them?" Clary wondered, heightening her voice to match Jessamine's fake tone. The blonde held her gaze, waiting. "Well, that's a secret." She finally replied and twirled off only to prattled on. "But it's not the only scar he got while we were naked together... He's got one on his scrotum, too. That was an interesting ER visit."

Jessamine stomped into the dressing room, stripping off the outfit. She raised her voice so Clary could hear her. "Yes, clearly you had some fabulous times. And then Jace came to his fucking senses and got the hell out of this shithole and away from that filthy motorcycle gang."

The dressing room curtain suddenly tore open and Jessamine squealed, covering her naked breasts. Clary stood there scowling with distain. She looked nowhere but deep into the little, rich princess's eyes. "You know what outlaws of the MC do, Jessamine?" Clary rasped, her voice a threatening calm. "They do what no one else has the balls to do. In order to fix a problem, make some money, get rid of a liability, or maybe just a nuisance. And they get away with it." She took slow, calculated steps closer to Jessamine who pressed further back into her corner of the dressing room. "So then... just _imagine_ what the innocent-eyed looking _daughter_ could get away with." She paused letting her threat sink into that barbie doll's plastic skull. She was close enough then to whisper in her ear. "Say one more fucking, bad thing about the Rebel Stallions or this town. I dare you."

The harsh chime of her cellphone sounded in Clary's back pocket. Ripping it out, Clary turned on her heel storming out the dressing room, leaving a stunned Jessamine in her wake. She took one look at the caller I.D. and saw Sebastian's name. "What?!" She snapped into the receiver. Her temper still lingered.

"I'm pleased to know you answer the phone like that for him." Came a different deep and familiar voice on the other end of line.

Clary took a deep breath, letting just the sound of his voice melt her. "How's J.C.?" She muttered.

Jace replied. "He's fine. Dorthea here just made him a snack. Now, he's watching some God-awful children's show. I tried to put on one of our old favorites but, according to Dorthea, Scar Face wasn't 'age appropriate.'"

Clary stood in a tight corner by the store's front window. She cracked a smile, despite herself. "Are you almost finished over there?" She urged.

"Why?"

"Because I'm done playing with your woman. She's too dumb for it to even be enjoyable. And I only have so much patience in me until I get violent." It was a confession and a warning.

Jace groaned. "She is pretty dense. I forgot to tell you that she thinks Jonathan is yours and Stephan's love child." He informed, with absent humor.

"Is that so?" She drawled. Jessamine was running out of strikes.

"Who are you talking to?" Came the same girl's nagging voice.

"Your husband called me just to check in." Clary declared coldly. She had no more interested in the fake politeness.

Jessamine, however, seemed to not be able to admit a charade. "Well, do tell him I say hello." She replied, her smile tight.

"Jessamine says 'Hi.' He says 'Go fuck yourself.'" She swiftly monotoned, not giving Jace a moment for an actual reply.

"Cute. Glad to see you're done with the fake niceties." She admitted, finally getting the hint.

"I'll admit when it comes to acting, you have me beat."

"Why don't you also tell him how much I loved what he did to me in bed last night."

"When he tried to smother you with a pillow?" Clary suggested.

Jessamine scoffed. "No. I mean when we had passionate sex. Obviously."

This time Clary's amusement was genuine. "Now, how would that be possible..." She drawled. The phone still held to her ear. She knew full well that Jace had spent the night with her and not Jessamine.

Jace finally interrupted, having heard their back and forth. "Don't even go there with her Baby Girl, I don't have time to deal with her drama." He growled.

Clary clicked her tongue. "I gotta go." She replied before hanging up on him. She stared at Jessamine for several lengthy heartbeats. "You look good covered in blood red." She darkly confessed.

As usual, the true meaning of her words flew over the girl's head and Jessamine looked down that the red blouse she had changed into and smiled arrogantly. "I think I'll take it."

"Smart. Jace's favorite color is Red. Obviously." She impassively responded, once again. Jessamine's face pinched together and she stomped back to the dressing rooms.

The following car ride was a stale silence. Jessamine's shopping bags filled the backseat. Clary stared straight-face out the window but the bimbo sat huffing and puffing, clearly agitated. She, apparently, was not used to facing someone's full on contempt.

"I don't deserve this." Jessamine finally grumbled out loud.

"What's that?" Clary questioned, coolly.

Jessamine gave her an indignant side- eye. "Your behavior." She snided.

"Then imagine how everyone feels about you."

Jessamine balked at her. "You're just jealous." She finally hissed. It was a petty response, but her go to.

However, Clary glanced at her thoughtfully and then chewed at her lip. "Yeah. I guess, I am." She allowed and then laughed once without humor. "I'm just not use to dealing with it anymore." Clary pulled into a gas station and cut the engine. She paused for a moment before looking at Jessamine full on and all the stupid woman could do is give her an incredulous stink-eye.

"I'd say that it's nothing personal, but it's all very personal, actually." The red-head confessed the fact of the matter. "You're a bitch. Who thinks that some piece of paper gives you a claim on what's already mine." She accused, but as she went on, her voice grew grave and eyes became glassy with heartbreak or maybe it was pure fury. "There have been years that you stole touches and kisses from me. They belonged to _me..._ And yet, he comes here and asks me to look at you as naïve collateral? Forgive me but I was raised to always collect reparations." Clary shook her head looking away, through the windshield and into the sky. "God, for this I deserve sainthood." She whispered.

Jessamine could only stare at her wide-eyed. Nothing that she had said made any sense to the girl. "Are you fucking crazy?" She croaked. "You know what this looks like, right? Like you are some pathetic small-town trash who can't stand to see the guy, who was always too good for you, with someone else!" She raged, feeling completely confused and insulted.

"I know exactly how it looks." Clary replied, her tone became cold and bored once more.

"What elaborate point are you trying to make then?!"

Clary gazed at Jessamine calmly. "The point is very simple actually." She corrected. "I just haven't had to make it in a while but I think it's something you should be aware of." Her words became slow and threatening. "The only reason you sit here instead of already buried in a shallow, unmarked grave is because I allow it." Silence settled between them for several heart beats. Clary's confident gaze not leaving Jessamine's weary one.

Suddenly, Jace's wife snorted. "I work in the fashion and influencer industry, Honey. I have seen my share of two faces and heard my share of empty threats. You are a small bleep on my radar." She responded.

If she hoped that Clary would be disappointed to have not gotten under her skin, she was mistaken. Clary smiled, sweetly, instead. "Just wait." She offered and got out to pump her gas without another care.

Jessamine sat there stewing for several minutes. This nobody girl thought she was better than her? Was so proud of her little temper? Well, Jessamine had a temper of her own. She shoved her way out the cheap car door and slammed it harshly, coming around to the driver side. Clary stood there, with her hand on the gas pump, giving the girl an exasperated eyeroll. Jessamine launched into a rant calling Clary every petty and terrible name she could think of. And when she was huffing and puffing and out of breath, the little biker princess smiled.

"You know what else Jace and I learned growing up with Rebel Stallions? How to make something look like an accident." She professed, pulling out the nozzle of the gas pump. The tainted and foul-smelling liquid still barreled out, dowsing Jessamine's pants and heeled boots.

The prissy blonde screeched in shock, her face turning red. Clary, however, casually hung up the gas nozzle and took a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and pinched one of them between her lips.

"You call this an accident? This is _designer_! Don't you dare think you won't pay for this!" Jessamine fumed.

"That's not the accident I was talking about." She muttered around the rolled tobacco between her lips. She held up her lighter, switching the flame to life. But she didn't hold it to the tip of her cigarette. No, she held it out, away from her, and yet over the stained puddle of gasoline that Jessamine still stood in.

For how daft she could be, the deadly threat swiftly clicked in Jessamine's mind. Her breath going still as fear gripped her throat. In leisure, Clary watched her take hesitant backward steps. Her hands out in silent surrender as if warding off a dangerous animal. Jessamine could not remove her eyes from the lighter, and the loose grip that Clary held on it.

The building rumble of a motorcycle approaching drew Clary's attention. In the deserted lot of the gas station, Clary watched the Harley Davidson round the corner and park across from her car. She immediately recognized it as Sebastian.

Clary flicked the lid and smothered the flame of the lighter. "Get back in the car." She ordered, tucking the cigarette behind her ear. Jessamine didn't hesitate or argue. She merely darted around back to the passenger side and shut herself in the car, clearly rattled.

Sebastian removed his helmet and dismounted his bike, smirking at her. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as he strolled up.

"He send you to babysit the babysitter?" She started.

"It's funny, you know? Years apart and he still knows you like the back of his own hand." He chuckled. "As soon as you hung up, Jace told me to go find you before you set the girl on fire. Guess I got here just in time."

Clary glared at him. "What's going on?" She quietly demanded. Jace was hiding something, she could feel it.

Sebastian shook his head, his smile smug. "That's official club business. Last I checked, you're not privy."

"Jace isn't part of the club anymore." She countered through gritted teeth.

"But he does have a business proposition for us. You want answers, ask him."

Clary scoffed in disgust. "Jace is back for less than a one day and you're already bending over for him."

"Don't get all high and mighty with me, Baby Girl. You bent over for him after only a few hours." He taunted bitterly. But his annoyance made her smirk. Sebastian knew jealousy almost well as Clary. And for that she had him all figure out. In all the years she had known him, there was nothing from him that she could not get.

Clary's fingers trailed over his belt buckle in a reminding touch and his pelvis nudged forward, on instinct. "Whatever you're helping him with... It's because you want to make it up to him, isn't it? Despite the beating he gave you, does that betrayal sit in your stomach like it does mine?" She prodded softly, meeting his eyes.

Sebastian glared at her but made no denial. "But ask yourself still, Seb, who matters to you more, him... or me?" She urged and still he stayed silent, looking at her warily. Clary's eyes cast down to the car window, where Jessamine sat just inside. "She touched what's mine, Seb." She whispered, letting her eyes bat at him. It was a silent communication. One she didn't need him to reply to.

She slipped her hand into his, taking the keys to his Harley. She gripped the back of his neck and raised on her tippy toes to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. Without another word, he got in her car, she took his bike, and they drove off in opposite directions.

It was twilight when Jace finally left the clubhouse. Sebastian had called not too long before and informed him that he had taken Jessamine back to their hotel and Clary had taken off on his bike. Jace tried to call her but she sent him to voicemail. He decided to ask Dorthea to take J.C. back to Clary's house. He needed to go see Jessamine and give her another excuse as to why he would be gone all night. He tried Clary again on the way to the hotel, but he still could not get ahold of her.

As soon as he entered the room, he could hear Jessamine panting and throwing things into her suitcase. She gasped when he let the door slam behind him and when he stepped further into the room, he frowned, confused by the sight of her.

Her once long, golden-blonde curls had been hacked off. None too gently it seemed. The hair had been cut unevenly down to her scalp. In some spots there were little jagged tufts and other spots that looked like she had been nicked and bled. And as soon as Jessamine looked at him, she burst into tears.

Jace didn't step to comfort her. There was no amount of time, even now, that he felt any affection for the girl. And plenty of times where he thought she deserved even less than that.

"Look what he did to me?!" She cried, when Jace continued to stare at her in scrutiny. 'He' she had said. Yet, Jace knew who was truly behind Jessamine's defacement.

"It will grow back." He finally uttered.

Jessamine started huffing and sniffling, appalled. She threw the rest of her belongings into the suitcase. "You are just as twisted as the rest of them, aren't you?" She demanded in fury but didn't wait for an answer. "I'm getting on the next plane to New York and I want a divorce." She paused letting her words hang there, her knuckles white on the handles of her baggage. If he wanted to say anything to salvage things, it was then. But Jace merely raised his chin and stepped out of the way. With an indignant squeak, she stormed past him and out the door.

Jessamine being the one to ask for a divorce saved him a little trouble. The timing, however, could complicate things. With obvious indifference, Jace went to the front desk to check-out and then headed to Clary's house.

When he arrived, Clary was not there. Still, he sent Dorthea home and made dinner for his son. He played trucks with the little boy and tried to get ahold of Clary again with no luck. Worry set in and a bit of annoyance. He read several stories to Jonathan and eventually the little boy fell asleep in his arms. He placed him in his crib to sleep but stayed there in the dark for several lingering minutes, admiring the little life fused together by his bond with his temperamental red-head.

Jace didn't try to call her again. She would face him for her sins when she was ready. He, instead, sat on her back patio, prepared to burn through a whole pack.

Simon pulled up to Clary's house, his stomach churning. He didn't know how to navigate this situation. He didn't know what to say to her. He just knew that he wanted to fix things and he wanted Jace gone. He parked in the back of her driveway and with flowers in hand, and made fast strides to the back-kitchen door.

"She's not here." Groused a rough voice. Simon looked over to see Jace sitting alone at Clary's old iron table, the paint coat chipped away from it as well as the matching chairs. The patio it sat on was not in much better shape, over grown with weeds. Jace reclined in his seat, a cigarette dangling between two pinched fingers. Clary smoked every once in a while. Simon found the habit a nasty one but she refused to give it up.

"Where is she?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Jace murmured, pulling the cigarette back to his mouth to inhale. "Seems for every secret I have, she has her own." He spoke with the smoke ghosting past his lips upon each word.

Weary, Simon looked around. "Does she have Jonathan?" He continued to question.

"No. Our son, is in his crib sleeping." Jace revealed, pinning Simon with a measured stare.

Simon shuffled there for a moment debating to stay or leave. To leave the flowers and then leave? To take them and try again tomorrow? Just as he was about to turn back to his car, Jace spoke.

"Do you love her?" He mused.

Simon stared at him, breathing, building courage before finally speaking. "Yes, I do." He affirmed, going on the defense. "So, go ahead and do it. Mock me, punch me. But I don't regret it. Someone had to take care of her." He spat.

Jace didn't get angry and he didn't smirk, either. He nodded slowly before replying. "Thank you... for being there for her, for him, because I wasn't."

"You..." Simon stuttered, caught off by guard by the man's admission. "You're welcome."

Jace studied him for another moment longer. "Does she love you?" He questioned. Curiously, almost innocently. And as much as he didn't want to, Simon felt compelled to be honest.

"I thought she did..." Simon looked away with a hard swallow. "Until, I saw the way she looked at you." He confessed. Jace nodded deeply as if he had known as much already, and it sparked Simon anger once again.

"Are you always so arrogant?" He demanded.

Jace smirked and shrugged. "I've never seen the point in playing dumb just to cushion someone's feelings. If you can't handle the truth, that's your problem." He supplied.

"Just tell me how you could do it?" Simon shot. "If you loved her as much as she thinks you do. You knew what could happen and you killed him anyway? And then, you came back just to knock her up and abandon her, again? How could you just leave her?" He interrogated with disgust.

Once again, Jace nodded with his 'deep' understanding. "It makes sense that you would ask that. Because you love her. And to you, that means doing what it takes to make her love you, too." He spoke calmly, as if giving a lecture to a child. "Giving her whatever she wants because nothing is more important than her happiness? That's admirable. But ultimately a naive mentality. That piss ant, Sebastian, is guilty of the same. Clary sees through it just as well." He divulged. "See, when you plan to love someone a lifetime, keeping them happy isn't a realistic goal... Protecting them is. I loved Clary and I loved my dad and I loved my brotherhood... and they all sent me away. You think that made any of us _happy_?" Jace cringed at the word as if it disgusted him. "But they did it to protect _me_. You think Clary is the naive one, that she doesn't understand this, but she's known it all along." Jace leveled Simon with a hard stare. "Some things in life are settled, Simon. She could _hate_ me and it wouldn't make her any less mine. And a man protects what is his. There is one thing that will always be more important to me than her feelings and that's her safety. Staying, the last time I came here, would have jeopardized that... And then, for our son, too." He added softly.

Simon glared at him in denial. "You go on all you want, but you want to know what it sounds like to me? That you care more about claiming her and owning her, than what _she_ may actually want!" He argued.

Jace shrugged. "You're not completely off base there. I care about what's best for her, whether she likes it or not. Whether _I_ like it or not."

"And you call that _love_?" He groused, shaking his head in disgust. "You don't deserve her."

Jace smirked, inspecting the nub of his cigarette. "I know I should say the love sick fool thing and agree with you but... no." He met Simon's judgmental stare. "I would die for her. I would clearly kill for her. I already have. Would you?" He challenged and Simon didn't answer, bringing back Jace's smirk. "Her and I, we deserve each other. She's not the little angel you think she is. I know you think she is some poor girl thrust into a world of violence by simply, unfortunate circumstance... But the truth is, she wants this life as much I always did. Maybe even more..."

"You're wrong. She's different now. Without you." Simon argued but felt Jace's intimidation shake him.

"I don't doubt that. But, you see... The Clary that you know is only half of her, because her other half is me. We are one in the same. That man I killed? I felt elated taking his life." Jace confessed, stubbing out his cigarette into a tray of ash and standing. "The only regret I have is that I did it with impatience. There is no imaginary scenario where he lived."

Jace approached, causing Simon to trip a step backward. Jace didn't comment, he continued to ramble as he entered the house, expecting Simon to follow. And he did. "But there should have been torture. And there sure as hell would have been some fire. People would still be looking for his body. May have been the first man I killed but I've buried a few bodies..." Jace revealed, glancing over his shoulder with a proud smile. Because a skill in burying bodies was apparently one to brag about. "Nope." He then sighed. "Instead, I set up a pretty fucked chain of events for myself...Clary was much smarter about it." He added in a mumbled.

It drew Simon up short. "What do you mean?" He entreated.

About to sit on the couch, Jace halted to give Simon a full grin. "My sweet Baby Girl has secrets she hasn't told you, I see..." Simon only glared harder. But Jace shrugged idly. "Or maybe she doesn't and I'm just trying to fuck with your head." He countered. "It's not usually my style, but I guess I'm feeling nostalgic seeing my girl again. She was always very conniving that way. Not that I have ever had any complaints. But I digress." Jace said, seeming to have gotten off track. "I appreciate you taking care of my family, Simon... but it is _my_ family. And when I return for good, there will not be room for you in it. So, the kindness I have shown you, ends here." He sounded almost apologetic. Almost.

"_This_ was kind?" Simon barked, completely baffled at that point.

Suddenly, the front door opened and Clary walked in, innocently eyeing the two. "Awe, both my handsome men." She cooed. Both of the men frowned at her and then her eyes slid to Jace. "Should we play 'Guess who's my favorite?'" Her sweet voice taunted.

In a flash, Jace barreled toward her and forced her up against the wall, his hand around her throat.

"What are you doing—" Simon broke out in shock but quickly stilled at Jace's threatening glare.

With the slow twist of his head, Jace set his sights on Clary pinned to the wall. He pressed the lines of his oppressing body up to her and rasped in her ear. "Do not provoke me, Baby girl. After the stunt you pulled today with Jessamine, the balance on whether or not your little boy toy ends up in the hospital is not very stable. I suggest you don't tip scales in his unpleasant favor..."

"What the hell is wrong with you? Let her go!" Simon sputtered, terrified that the lunatic would hurt her.

Jace laughed loudly. "Now, why would I do that?" Jace murmured, turning his grin back to Clary. "She likes it."

Simon looked to Clary's face for the first time and was shocked to see no fear there, despite Jace's hand clamped around her throat. She was not smiling either, but her eyes stared up at Jace with burning intensity. Jace stared back at her with that same superior look. "You must really miss me if this is the stiff you've been dealing with." He whispered quietly for only her to hear, but not caring otherwise if the other man did.

Clary tasted her bottom lip and then batted Jace hand away with such ease. As if he had been barely touching her in the first place. "Don't worry, Simon. I told you, Jace would never hurt me. He's all bark." She assured, coming to stand next to him.

Jace smirked, leaning against the wall he moments ago had the small ginger pressed up against. "It's true, I only bite when she begs." He added.

Simon was still huffing in anger but smart enough to know not to push Jace further. "I should go." He monotoned, eyes boring into the floor.

Clary spoke to him quietly, "I'll walk you out." He looked at her with betrayal. The hope left in him had expected her to beg him to stay although he was beginning to realize the truth of the situation.

Jace clicked his tongue and shoved off the wall. He strolled past the two of them, his hand grazing Clary's waist as he went. "And I'll be waiting in the bed." He voiced.

Once they were alone, Clary still didn't speak. She waited for Simon. And all he had to say was "The bed." Clary frowned at him, confused.

"_The _bed. _The _coffee mugs. _Our _son." He reiterated. "You don't hear it, do you? The way he gives you no ownership for what's yours? Like he has the same claim to all of it?"

Clary exhaled, staring at her feet. "Simon." She breathes, unsure of what to say.

"Clary, you've always been honest with me. Told me things that were hard to say and hard to hear. Told me how much you loved Jace... But is there something you haven't told me, about you? Something you've done?" Simon murmured.

Clary snapped to attention. "Did Jace say something?" She questioned.

"More insinuated."

"He's just trying to get in your head. He likes to play mind games with people he thinks are weak or pathetic." She insisted.

Simon scoffed.

"I said _'he'_ thinks."

Simon didn't know what to think anymore. He did not trust Jace. But if Clary did, could he really trust her? "Funny. He insinuated he got that little hobby from you." He commented.

"I don't play mind games with you, Si. I've been plain and blunt about everything with you. You said you accepted what I could give."

"Because I respected that you were always honest with me. And fuck, Clary... I thought you could at least give me more than this!" He cried. "And now, apparently there's some secret? Or maybe there's not? I don't like this guy, Clary! We've been together for years and he comes back for two days and you are ready to cast me aside! I don't like what he does to you! And I don't want to be some fool that gets jerked around in the middle of some unwinnable war for your affection!"

"Then leave, Simon!" She blurted out, surprising him. She narrowed her eyes, offended. "You're looking at me like I've betrayed you. Like I've misled you." She confirmed. "I told you that I was a bad person when we first met. I told you that I would ruin you. That you deserve so much better. But you keep staying!" Her eyes filled with tears.

Simon softened immediately, weakened by her distress. Surely, Jace wasn't affected by her this way. "Because I see how hurt you are and I just want to fix it." He cupped her face, trying to soothe her. "I see this strong yet, vulnerable girl that just needs to be properly loved. That's all I've ever wanted to do."

Clary didn't relax into his touch, if anything she grew more strained. "Simon, I may have been so fiercely hurt but you have always failed to see that have been so fiercely loved. What makes you think you have anything to offer me?" She challenged.

Simons chest ached, wounded by her words. "I know you want to push me away. That you think I deserve better, but I don't want better. Jace shouldn't be a part of your life anymore. Or Jonathan's. You are better off without him. I know you say that he is all there is for you, but you're wrong. I can make you happy, Clary. I _do_ make you happy. And these tears tell me that despite what you say, you want me, too." He tried to hold her close and kiss her but Clary furiously shook her head and broke away from him.

"You don't get it. I don't want you! I want Jace! I am broken without him! You think you see me. You think you love me. You are in love with a broken doll, Simon." She pronounced.

Simon was shaking. "So, what are you saying? That this whole time I've just been the fucking Band-Aid?" He sputtered.

Clary cocked her head. "No, worse." She confessed. "You're the Peroxide. I'm using you to try and heal myself, but all the while it burns and it hurts and guess what? I relish in it." Her words hissed at him, all caution abandoned.

Clary had always been the reserved kind. A quiet, mysterious observer with a secret smile. He had found it alluring. She seemed to enjoy his jokes and his presence in a quaint way. But at night, in the bedroom, she would cling to him in a way of worship, taking from him all that he had with desperation. And then, sometimes, after she thought he had fallen asleep, he would sense the soft tremor in her breaths as she wept quietly to herself... For all these years Simon thought this meant one thing and now he realized it meant another. He saw her family and friends, heard stories about her childhood. He thought that demons haunted her because of it. But as he stared at her then, he wondered if she had been the demon herself, all along.

"Tell me you're not like him, Clary..." He croaked, in disbelief. Jace was dark and he was dangerous in an obvious way. They all were. Simon saw the lot as vicious wolves. And they stuck together just as a pack would. Yet, Clary he wanted to save, wanted to steal away. Perhaps, she had only been a wolf in sheep's clothing. "Tell me that you're not the murderer he is."

"No... I'm worse." She vowed.

Simon sniffed, collecting himself. "Then, I guess Jace was right. You two do deserve each other." He shouldered past her and out through the kitchen.

Clary stood in the door way of the kitchen for several minutes, slowing her breaths. Wet streaks spilled down each of her cheeks.

Collateral... Simon. Jessamine. They were collateral. They weren't the first and they would not be the last. It was a fact of the lives they lived. You used others or others used you.

"Don't shed tears for him, Baby Girl. If he can't handle your worst, then he's not worth them." Jace murmured, stepping up behind her.

Unashamed, Clary whispered. "I love him, Jace. He is the kindest man I've ever met." Her damp eyes turned up to see his face. The face as cold as stone, and unforgiving as iron, that haunted her memories and dreams. "But I'm not _in_ love with him." She said slowly. "And I never would be. And as much as he claimed to accept that. There's no way he ever could have."

Jace's expression didn't change. "If you're looking for sympathy from me, I have none." She should not have expected anything less. He had to stand there and stomach their intimacy. The very thought had a beast inside him howling. His life had been molded around her as his pure solstice. And now, just as then, he refused to share.

Clary shoved him hard in the chest, breezing past him. "You're a Jackass." She grumbled. She went down the hall and cracked opened the door to Jonathan's room. She pressed her weight against the door jam. Her son slept soundly. His little diapered bum propped in the air.

Jace moved behind her once more. His fingers dusted down her shoulder, raising goosebumps on her flesh. "But that's what you want, isn't it?" He whispered behind her ear, his lips moving on her skin. "Not the kindest man you've ever known. You want a jackass. _My_ jackass to be specific." His hand moved over her pelvis pulling her out of the doorway and that mouth of his suckled her neck, hard enough for it to bruise. He rolled her back to the adjacent wall and Clary let him move her like a puppet. One arm, held her arms above her head while his other bowed her back, so that he could lavish her cleavage.

"A whole life of me choosing you, and you still find room to gloat?" She mocked, sounding breathless.

Jace's hands came to frame her face. His lips, soft and loose dragged against hers. "A lifetime with you still wouldn't be enough, Clary." He sighed. "I want these lips into eternity."

A mewl poured from her mouth, as Jace's tongue dipped in. Heat buzzed down between her thighs and anticipation opened in her chest like the fanning pages of a book.

"You may not be the kindest girl I've ever known." Jace groaned. "You may not be the most anything to anyone else, but you are the most perfect woman to me. And to not gloat about you for the rest of my life would surely be enough alone to earn me my eternity in hell." His rough voice affirmed.

Clary smiled, biting the tip of her tongue. "Save me a spot in your bed." She pleaded.

With firm hands, Jace cupped the back of her thighs and pulled her up until her legs wrapped around him and he walked them to the bedroom. "Oh, no, Baby. There won't be any silk sheets for us. Only whips and flames." He said, laying her down on plain, worn sheets.

"It's a good thing that excites me." She gasped as Jace savagely unclothed her.

Bare, beneath him, his teeth bit into the pearl flesh of her inner thigh before his tongue slathered her throbbing slit. Clary panted and pulled at his hair. Jace covered her body with his, naked himself, so that every part of him could mold against her. Forehead pressed to forehead, their mouths baited rather than touched. Clary sought Jace's hand, pressing it against her throat where he had held her just earlier.

"Don't let me go." She begged him breathlessly. "I need to you to hold me together. I need you to be whole."

Jace growled, his balls aching at the sound of her prayers. He took hold of her knee, finger tips curling into the soft skin, and forced it out. He plunged his hips forward, sinking into her wet walls. She surrounded him so tightly, he clenched his teeth at the sensation of melding them together that neither knew where they started and the other began.

Clary choked on a moan at the sweet, sudden intrusion. His body moved in and out of her hard, deep, and relentless. The mattress creaked and thumped against the frame, yet the sounds escaped from her beautiful lips drowned them out.

Jace came in her with a dragging moan. The muscles of his back and neck flexed, while his hands tightened like shackles around her wrists. In one, quick, fluid move, Jace rolled to sitting with Clary in his lap, his cock still inside of her. She tried desperately to ride him, close to her own release but Jace held her fast. She fought him, panting, deranged by the pressure built within her.

"I've thought I loved you." He confessed, breathing still ragged. "I've thought I've loved you my whole life. But you. This. My water. My salvation." He drawled, lost in the way the satin skin of her collar bone felt under his lips. "'Love' is not enough to describe this."

Clary's delicate fingers fisted in his hair as her hips ground circles against him. She threw her head back, moaning and whining, forcing her breasts up to his mouth where his teeth nibbled on the tender bud of her nipple. Her fluids pooled in his lap beneath her as she came and Jace whispered soft vows of devotion.

He laid her body beside him, while her stuttering breaths began to slow. And when her chest once rose and fell again evenly, he used his mouth to wipe away the salt water streaks that trailed from her soft green eyes. Jace held her firmly to him and nuzzled her neck like a needy lion, as Clary stroked his disarrayed locks. When it came down to it, Jace was a lover not a fighter. If he fought it was to defend what or those he loved. Friends, family, the Rebel Stallions. But what he was willing to do for Clary surpassed all else.

In the morning, Clary stirred awake in an empty bed, but the warmth in her chest told her that he was still near. The scent of Jace surrounded her. Her muscles felt like limp rubber and it was only then that she realized the absence of the tension that they usually carried.

Jace's deep voice filtered down the hall and Clary carefully got up and tiptoed after the sound. She entered the kitchen to see what appeared to be the contents of her refrigerator spread on the table. Jonathan sat in his high-chair clapping his small, clammy, baby hands together.

"Just point to which one is your favorite." Jace spoke to the little boy. "But, if you reach for this disgusting oatmeal, Mommy is getting a spanking." He looked up and winked at her.

Clary smirked, watching Jace shake cheerios onto the tray of Jonathan's high chair. "I made you coffee, Baby Girl." He mentioned, picking up a cup that matched his own.

She clutched the mug in her hands, the heat warming her palms. "You seem happy." She murmured, studying him.

"Taste of the future I always saw for us." Jace replied, setting his own cup down. His large hands, gripped her waist and hoisted her pants-less, rear-end onto the counter. Just so that he could press in and cage her between the iron frame of his torso and arms. "Bare foot and pregnant in the kitchen." He articulated.

"You missed the pregnant part." She put in, sipping her coffee, effectively cutting off his attempted kiss.

"What about round two?" He questioned. An intentional thumb, traced back and forth over her lower abdomen.

"I'm back on the pill." She informed.

Jace glanced over his shoulder to Jonathan. "So, that's how you happened, eh, J.C.?" His son looked up at him then and began to babble '_Mo, Mo, Mo.' _Jace grabbed the box of cereal and poured the little boy '_More.' _

In his mind, Jace warred with questions, trying to decide which ones he wanted answers to. Clary obviously didn't feel the need to be very forthcoming with information. Her little form of petty payback. He had to admit, it did crazy things to his arousal.

Clary asked a question, instead. "Do you think things would have turned out different if I had gotten knocked up when we were teenagers?"

Jace stepped in between her legs once more and this time Clary wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close and giving him a sweet smooch. Her defiance may set his blood boiling with lust but her tenderness wrapped him in layers of sweet, warm content.

"No," He confessed, smoothing her sexy bed-head. "You would still have raised him on your own. Because if I knocked you up back then, Valentine would have certainly murdered me."

Clary giggled then, and the sound made Jace feel so weightless for a moment that he instinctively held her tighter to ground him. "Oh, Baby Girl," He groaned. "I missed the sound of your laugh."

In reply, Clary kissed him again, deeper this time. Her tongue stroked his and flicked against his teeth. Her tiny fists, grabbed his t-shirt, pulling him closer so that her hips could grind into his raging hard-on. Jace slid a hand up to the base of her neck and she moaned like she wanted him right there. In normal circumstances he would be happy to oblige but there was still business to take care of.

"We have somewhere we need to be." Jace enlightened, regrettably untangling himself from her despite her pout.

Jace quickly showered first and then Clary hopped in along with the baby. Jace waited patiently for her to give the little boy a scrub. Jonathan's little squeals of delight signaled his obvious joy for playing in the water. And Jace chuckled along with him, before retrieving him with a warm fluffy towel, while Clary finished up.

Not long after, they made it out the door and to the Rebel Stallion Clubhouse. The "Clubhouse" didn't have a direct entrance, it was the back of the Bar building. There was an office for records and finances, a Chapel for Club meetings, Dorms upstairs for any Brothers in need, and even a Holding Cell in case someone became difficult. Out the back, there was the far span of the Boneyard that met the Auto Shop on the rounding block.

In the Chapel, Clary looked around with mild curiosity that made Jace smirk. He had looked the same when he met with Valentine and the crew the previous day. It had been years since he attended a church meeting. But for Clary, she had perhaps only been invited into the Chapel a select few times. Today, as Jace, Clary, Valentine, and a couple other Rebel Stallions took seats at the long table iron and wood, it was to meet with Stephan's lawyer for the reading of his Will.

It was fairly to the point, leaving specific belongings to his close friends there. The Brothers made jokes of the good times past, ready to move on from mourning and celebrate his life. Jace, however, remained stoic. Letting his father's final wishes embed in his soul. Finally, the lawyer read that Stephan willed all of his business shares and estate to his only son, Jace Herondale.

"However," He added. "In the event that Jace Herondale is unable or wishes to decline his inheritance, all properties shall be left to Stephan Herondale's grandson, Jonathan Christopher Herondale, under the management of his legal guardian."

The room was silent. All eyes in the room watched Jace nod slowly as he absorbed the information. "You got a pen?" He said abruptly. The lawyer pulled an extra pen from the top pocket of his suit and handed it to Jace. "Where do I sign it over?"

Eyes shifted around the table but it was Clary who spoke. "Jace think about this for a second..."

"What's there to think about?" He snapped at her, before signing his rights away to everything and over to Clary. It was the best option. Stephan's house was paid off. She could move in there, have a larger income, maybe even start putting some money away for their son.

"Well, that about covers everything." As soon as the words were out of the lawyer's mouth, Clary's chair screeched back and she stormed from the room. The other MC members slowly stood and milled out the door leaving Valentine across from him.

"She's worried this is going to be your last good-bye." Valentine muttered with pity.

"I know." Jace replied. "And I hope it is."

"One last thing." The lawyer interrupted. "A letter, from your father." His eyes were kind and full of sympathy as he handed it over to Jace. Business was business and the lawyer did as he was paid to do but, the man had seen Jace's family and whole crew through a lot of shit. The man picked up his briefcase giving Jace's shoulder a squeeze on his way out.

"I'll give you a minute." Valentine nodded and made his exit.

Jace tapped the weighted paper on the cold surface of the table for several thoughtful seconds, preparing himself for his father's last words. Finally, his callous fingertips slipped under the sealed flap and produced a letter written in his father's hand.

_Dear Son,_

_Your boy was born today. Gave that little girl hell, but he's here and she's doing fine. Boy's gonna look just like you, I already know it. Our Herondale genes are some strong ones. That's for sure._

_I remember the day that you were born clear as crystal. The way your momma cried when she held you. The way you opened your eyes for the first time and looked right at me. I can't say I've done a lot of good in my life but I figured as long as I always did right by you, I'd rest peacefully. Be it in heaven or hell, or maybe only in the cold, dark ground._

_Now, I know I raised you right. Nobody's gonna tell me different. You are a good man. Every good man has his sins, but you know what's important at the end of the day. That's more than most people can say. I taught you a lot of things about being a man, but don't believe I ever told you that everything happens for a reason. It's hard thinking that right now, while I watch your little man sleep sound in his crib, and wonder if he will ever know you like you knew me... But something in me knows it to be true. Children are blessings, Son. Jonathan Christopher wouldn't be here if there wasn't a purpose. And I'm glad I get to know him. Your finest achievement. Because that same thing that tells me all will be well one day, tells me that I might not be here to see it._

_Something in me knows that we've already had our last good-bye. Maybe meeting your boy is my last blessing. Lord knows I've had more than I deserve in this life but I'll take it. I don't have many regrets, Jace. But I wonder everyday if making you leave was the right decision. I'll never know the answer to that, but I have enough faith and pride in you to know that you can fix the sins of your father with a few of your own... Just for her._

_Clary loves you, Jace. Not much more a man can ask for than a devoted woman like that. You two were always going to happen. And she will be here waiting for you in the end. Don't let her down, Boy. Loyalty is everything. Remember that. It's trust, it's family, it's love. Don't let anything ever stand in the way of it._

_If you read this, and I'm long gone, know that I love you, Kid. You will always be my own finest achievement._

_Good Luck, _

_Pops._

Jace struggled to swallow against the ache in his throat and the burn in his eyes. The letter perfectly mirrored Jace's own final farewell that he had spoken at Stephan's funeral. A shuddering breath ripped from his lips in exhale as Jace tried to hold himself together and fold the letter away for safe keeping. His father's last words for him should have brought peace but instead, Jace wrestled with fury and agony. Stephan may not have any regrets but _he_ sure did and killing Hodge Starkweather was no longer one of them. But he regretted every second that he spent away from his family after that, he regretted giving up. And yet... without all of it, Jonathan wouldn't be here.

Jace stood from the table, renewed determination blooming in his chest. Stephan could be right. Everything happened for a reason. Then, the last thing he wanted to do was let him down in the end.

When Jace walked from the Chapel into the main hall of the bar, everyone was speaking casually, drinking beers. Clary watched him from behind the bar, as he strode over to pick up Jonathan. Clutching the little boy to his chest like he was sacred. The sight threatened to break her. Anxiety splintered through her like a heavy omen and all she could do was bite her tongue and pour another drink.

The day lingered on just as the past couple had done since Jace arrived and his father was laid to rest. As if, everyone was hesitant to go back to real work, to real routine. Because that meant things were settled. It meant accepting change and moving on. That was always the hardest part of losing someone. So, instead, Jace and Clary, the brothers, they all waded in these last moments, catching up, but ultimately pretending. Because in reality, they could all feel the hounding tension of what was to come next.

Jace and Clary went back to her house and ate dinner together, like it was a normal routine that they had done many times before. Clary burned Jace's chicken and he immediately knew that she did it on purpose. Her quiet and petty attempts fueled by a roaring internal rage. Jace knew and yet he said nothing to dowse her flames. He ate every bite. She knew he was an asshole who didn't baby her feelings, so he would not start then.

After dinner, Jace laid out blankets and pillows in the living room, just as Clary and him had done as children. He put on a movie that Clary said was J.C.'s favorite, and the little boy and him lounged together. Jonathan sometimes resting his head on Jace's chest, or sometimes spewing incoherent babbles and handing toys to Jace as if to share. Clary hovered but didn't lay down. Eventually she disappeared into the bedroom. When Jonathan fell asleep, Jace kissed his head and laid him to sleep in his crib, giving one last look.

Jace walked in the bedroom and closed the door. Clary was in the bathroom, the door also shut, so Jace grabbed his suitcase and began folding and packing. When the bathroom door creaked behind him, he didn't turn to her. He didn't mean to be cold, but something inside him had walled up since reading his father's letter. A sense of focus that he needed. Clary's soul moved and molded his like a river. He could be rushing and perilous or still and deep. And her being fueled him like gasoline. Contained and controlled but always on the cusp of blazing and burning down the world for her. His love for her blinded him like white light and in the center all he could see is every distinguished detail that was her. But he couldn't let that happen this time.

"You're leaving." She noted, her voice dry and rough.

"Yeah. I'm catching the red-eye." He confirmed.

"I thought you were going to be here all week?"

"Things changed." He couldn't see her face behind him, but he didn't need to. He could perfectly picture the distain on it.

"And you weren't going to tell me?" Her voice spat.

"I'm telling you now."

"Why don't you share what else it is that you've decided not to tell me." She suggested, sounding more like a demand. Jace shared most things with her when he was part of the club. She could obviously handle it but, if he kept something from her, it was for good reason.

"Baby Girl," He sighed, finally. "I'm just trying to protect you." He turned to look at her, and as usual was cut to the wick by how beautiful she was. Her face was scorching with fury that she barely had leashed.

"Bullshit!" She gasped, her eyes watering. "I'm not a fucking idiot, Jace. When you keep things from me, it's because you are about to put _yourself_ in danger and you don't want me to know!"

Jace looked at her, his face blank and cold. "Do you want me to lie to you, Clary?" He asked simply. "I never have and I prefer not to start now."

Clary stepped up to him, a hand gently raised to his face. Jace's hand snapped up to snatched her wrist, keeping her at bay. But she merely arched her brows, her other hand shoved his chest, suddenly not gentle. Jace collapsed to a seat on the bed, releasing her wrist. Clary's hand cupped his stong jaw and her face, now level with his, invaded his space. Lips in tempting distance, she whispered. "Don't. Whatever it is, Jace. Don't do it."

Jace's features contorted in anger and held her face in stern hands. "You've changed." He uttered and Clary's lips parted in surprise. "And _I _have changed." He continued. "The way you are looking at me right now makes me sick. What you're asking of me, makes me furious. We use to understand. We use to believe that the world was ours, that nothing could destroy us." Jace boiled with rage. It seemed to be all he could feel anymore. For years she looked at him with unyielding faith, her savior and ruler. But she looked at him with such fear that it was destroying him.

"Until it did!" She pressed.

"Because I fucking let it!" He raged. Clary whimpered and made to move away from him but he held her fast, crushing her lips to his, powerless to the hold she had on him. The tattoo on his back shoulder, of two bleeding hearts stitched together with barbed wire, could attest to it. Still, she leapt away from him. A hand to her soon to be bruised lips, as she paced in front of him.

"I love you, Clary." He whispered in defeat. "If you have no more trust in me, I don't blame you. But at least, trust in that."

His beautiful hurricane stilled, staring at him with heartbreak. "I do trust you, Jace." She croaked. "I just don't know how to trust myself to let you go." Valentine was right, she still feared this was their final goodbye. But maybe that was for the best. He couldn't risk her, risking herself. Not this time.

Jace stood and cupped her face once more. His thumbs brushed the stray tears of his cheeks. "You know, my very first memory is of you. Holding you for the first time. I think I thought you were a present for me, that Valentine had gotten you for me as a pet. Of course, I did realize at some point in the next year or two that you were not a puppy equivalent." He smirked. Clary didn't smile back but watched him in awe, hanging onto each word. "But there hasn't been a day in my life that I doubted how you were for me. That was always clear. And everything I've ever done was with you in mind." His voice was a murmur that he shared with his eyes closed and forehead pressed against hers. But as he pulled away to look deep into her emerald eyes, framed by flushed freckled cheeks, his voice became firm. And he confided one more thing. "Killing for you may have gotten me into this mess, but I should have known a long time ago that it's exactly what's going to get me out."

Clary didn't speak, but Jace watched as the green of her eyes thinned, consumed by her pupil. Then he pressed a final, long kiss to her forehead, before slipping from her fragile fingers that held the leather of his jacket. Without another word, Jace left her there, taking his suitcase with him, along with their last 'Goodbye.'

* * *

**Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! I am so freaking excited to finally have this next part posted! I really hope you guys like it. I was super feeling this ending here.**

**Please give me lots of reviews! I'm dying to know what everyone thinks. About the writing style, character dynamics, etc. (I feel like I read this like so many times so I hope there are few grammar/spelling errors.)**

** Next Chapter will be titled In Between. So let me know your predictions too if you have any! Thank you to everyone for reading my stuff, it means a WHOLE LOT to me honest. I feel especially proud of this story in a way, idk maybe because it feels a little deeper than my others?**

**P.S. To those who follow my other stories, I've not abandoned any, so thanks for keeping me motivated!**


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